:  -  ^■•:^';;.-f". 


THE-COURTOF-FRANCE 


VC         ME-I 


LADY-JACKSON 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


L       L       Q 


HILDA  GRENIER 


THE    COURT    OF    FRANCE 

IN    THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY 
Volume    I. 


LADY  JACKSON'S  WORKS. 

14   VOLUMES. 
OLD  PARIS.     Its  Court  and  Literary  Salons.    2  vols. 
THE   OLD   REOinE.      Court,    Salons    and    Theatres. 

2    VOlS. 

THE  COURT  OF  FRANCE  in  the  Sixteenth  Century, 
•5'4-'559-    2  vols. 

THE    LAST    OF    THE     VALOIS,    and    Accession    of 
Henry   of  Navarre,    1559=1589.    2    vols. 

THE    FIRST    OF    THE    BOURBONS,    1589-1595.       2 
vols. 

THE   FRENCH    COURT    AND    SOCIETY.       Relgn    of 
Louis    XVI.    and    First    Empire.     3   vols. 

THE  COURT  OF  THE  TUILERIES,   from    the   Res- 
toration to  the  Flight  of  Louis  Philippe.    2  vols. 

JOSEPH  KNIGHT  COMPANY,  Publishers, 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


Diane  of  Poitiers. 

Original  etching  by  Mercier 


THE 

COURT   OF    FRANCE 

IN    THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY 

i5H— 1559 


BY 

CATHERINE    CHARLOTTE,  LADY  JACKSON 

AUTHOR    OF 

"OLD    PARIS,"    "1HE    OLD    REGIME,"    "COURT    OF    LOUIS    XVI." 

"COURT    OF   THE   TUILERIES,"    ETC. 


In  Two  Volumes 
VOL  I. 


mit\)  illustrations 


BOSTON 
JOSEPH    KNIGHT    COMPANY 
1  896 


TYPOGRAPHY,  ELECTROTYPING  AND 
PRINTING  BY  THE  COLONIAl  PRESS 
C.  H   SIMONDS  <Sr»   CO.,  BOSTON,    U.S.A. 


CONTENTS    OF   VOL.   I. 

CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 

Funeral  of  Anne  of  Brittany. — The  Arrival  in  Paris. — 
The  Royal  Funeral  Litter.  —  The  Assembled  Mourners. 

—  The  Royal  Mourning. — The  Funeral  Oration.  —  The 
Queen's  Benevolence.  —  "Perdam  Babylonis  Nomen !  " — 
The  Herald  King-at-arms. — The  Queen's  Livre  d'Heures. 

—  Jean  and  Clement  Marot.  —  The  Maids  of  Honour. — 
Royal  Sports  and  Banquets.  —  The  Ladies  Invited  to 
Court.  —  A  Startling  Innovation.  —  A  Change  in  the 
Social  Regime.  —  Reproving  the  Bretonne  Queen.  —  The 
Duchy  of  Brittany     .  .  .  .  .  .1 

CHAPTER   II. 

Consolation  Offered.  —  Thirty-two,  or  Sixteen? — Le  Bon 
Roi  Louis  Douze.  —  Betrothal  of  Claude  and  Francis. — 
The  Royal  Nuptials.  —  Gloomy  Splendour.  —  His  High- 
ness of  England. —  The  Battle  of  the  Spurs.  —  The  Royal 
Bride.  —  The  Bride's  Entry  into  Paris.  —  Bridal  Festivi- 
ties.-—  Maternal  Anxiety.  —  Departing  Guests.  —  Death  of 
Louis  XII.  —  Les  Enfants  sans  Souci.  — Cardinal  Georges 
d' Amboise.  —  Louis' Severity  in  Italy         .  .  .     19 

CHAPTER   III. 

The  Type  of  a  New  Generation.  —  Seeking  Fortune's 
Favours.  —  Reward  of  Loyal  Devotion.  —  Francis  of 
Angouleme.  —  The  New  Court.  —  The  Special  Embassy. 

—  Loving  Inquiries. — The  King's  Public  Entry.  — The 
Hero  of  the  Fete.  —  The    Great  Officers  of   the  Crown. 

—  The  Widowed  Queen.  —  The  Ladies,  Litters,  and 
Mules.  —  The  Loves  of  Mary  and  Brandon.  —  Francis 
Discomfited.  —  Mary's    Letter     to     Her    Brother.  —  The 


CONTENTS 


Devil's   "Puissance."  —  Marriage  of  Mary  and  Brandon. 

—  The  Crown  Jewels  .  .  .  .  -3° 


CHAPTER   IV. 

An  Idolising  Mother.  —  The  King's  Governor.  —  The  Chev- 
alier King.  —  The  Chancellor  Duprat.  —  Charles  de  Bour- 
bon.—  Admiral  Bonnivet.  —  La  Belle  Francoise  de  Foix. 

—  The   Duke  of    Milan.  —  Schemes  for  Raising  Money. 

—  A  Matrimonial  Alliance.  —  Diplomacy  of  Sixteenth 
Century.  —  The  Treaty  of  Dijon.  —  Pedro  Navarro. — 
Guillaume  Bude.  —  Madame  Louise  of  Savoy.  —  Shedding 
a  Joy  on  Duty.  —  Heart-breaking  Leave-takings.  —  The 
Chivalry  of  the  Period. — -The  Fascinations  of  Lyons. — 
A  New  Route  over  the  Alps.—  Perseverance  and  Success. 

—  The  Modern  Hannibal.  —  Battle  of  Marignan.  —  An 
Advantageous  Loss.  —  Knighting  the  King  .  .     53 


CHAPTER   V. 

Pontiff   and   King.  —  Leo  X.  —  The  Court  of  the  Vatican. 

—  Francis  Fascinated.  —  The  Bologna  Conference. — 
Francis  in  Italy.  —  The  Hero's  Return.  —  Te  Deums  and 
Dirges.  —  What  a  Falling-off  is  Here!  —  Madame  Louise 
Alarmed. —  Sainte  Claude. —  Death  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain. 

—  Henry  VIII.  of  England.  —  Maximilian  Alarmed. — 
Bourbon  Recalled. —  Queen  Joanna  of  Spain. —  The  Arch- 
duke King.  —  A  Rival  in  Glory        .  .  .  -7° 


CHAPTER   VI. 

The  News  on  the  Crossroads. — Thanksgiving  for  Victory. 

—  Nocturnal  Amusements.  —  Triboulet  the  Court  Jester. 

—  The  Regency  of  Madame  Louise. —  The  Clerks  of  the 
Basoche.  —  The    Concordat.  —  A   Refractory  Parliament. 

—  One  Who  Had  Played  Many  Parts.  —  Propitiating  the 
Pope.  —  Rapid  Promotion.  —  Menacing  the  Judges. — 
Decease  of  the  Pragmatique.  —  Depravity  of  the  Clergy. 

—  High  Mass  in  the  Ste.  Chapelle. —  Coronation  of  Queen 
Claude.  —  Chivalric  Exploits.  —  Decorous  Recreation       .     92 

CHAPTER   VII. 

Splendour    of    the    Papal     Court.  —  Art,    Literature,   and 
Chivalry.  —  Leonardo  da  Vinci.  —  Pencil  and  Palette  Laid 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Aside.  —  A    Death-bed    Confession.  —  Movable    Pictures. 

—  Unveiling  Raphael's  Works.  —  Jean  Goujon.  —  A 
Hopeless  Passion. — The  Chateau  de  Moulins.  —  Park 
and  Grounds  of  Moulins.  —  O'ershadowed  by  a  Cloud.  — 
A  Royal  Dish  of  Windsor  Beans. —  A  Dish  to  Set  Before 
a  King. —  Salads  and  Fruits. — More  Regal  than  the 
King.  —  Blessings  on  the  New-born  Babe    .  .  .   108 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

An  Auspicious  Event.  —  Matrimonial  Contracts.  —  Betrothal 
of  Princess  Mary.  —  Supping  with  My  Lord  of  York. — 
Grand  and  Singular. — -The  Youthful  Fiancee.  —  The 
Daily  Bill  of  Fare.  —  England  and  Bluff  King  Hal.  — 
Right  Good  Wine  and  Supper.  —  Receiving  the  Embassy. 

—  Embracing  the  Embassy. —  Receiving  the  King's  Let- 
ters.—  A  Ball  at  the  Bastille.  —  The  State  Dinner. — 
A  Puzzling  Costume.  —  A  Supposed  Spurious  Dauphin. — 
Restitution  of  Tournay.  —  The  Port  of  Havre  Founded. 

—  A  Penitential  Procession. — A  Check  to  His  Holiness. 

—  An  Honourable  Arrangement      .  .  .  .124 

CHAPTER    IX. 

A  Coffin  in  Case  of  Need.  —  The  Imperial  Crown.  —  Re- 
viving the  Augustan  Age. —  The  Royal  College  of  France. 

—  The  Crowing  of  the  Cock.  —  Full  of  Thorns  and 
Vipers.  —  Erasmus  and  Voltaire.  —  Brother  Martin  Lu- 
ther.—  The  Sale  of  Indulgences. —  Under  the  Ban  of 
the  Church.  —  The  Germanic  Diet.  —  He  Stands  Erect! 

—  Sensation !  —  A  Learned  Dominican.  — .  Retract,  My 
Friend,  Retract.  —  Luther  Escapes  from  Augsburg.  — 
Saved  for  the  Present.  —  Conciliating  the  Elector      .         .  143 

CHAPTER   X. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian.  —  Maximilian's  Poverty.  —  Rival 
Claims  for  Empire. —  The  Infidel  Turk.  —  The  Bankers 
Fugger.  —  Too  Late  in  the  Field. —  Frederick  of  Saxony. 

—  A  Stripling  of  Limited  Capacity. —  Emerging  from 
Obscurity.  —  The  Spaniards  Dissatisfied.  —  The  Title  of 
Majesty  .  .  .  .  .  .  •  J  59 

CHAPTER    XI. 

A  Dream  of  Glory  and  Grandeur. — Constantinople,  or 
Death!  —  Sickness    and    Famine. —  Free    Gifts    to    the 


CONTENTS 


King.  —  The  Most  Learned  Prince.  —  A  Good  Calf  to 
His  Leg.  —  England's  True  King.  —  Young,  Gay,  and 
Gallant. — The  Rival  Monarchs.  —  Mutual  Courtesies.— 
Journeying  Toward  the  Sea.  —  A  Halt  in  the  Prepa 
rations. —  Europe  Astounded. —  The  Feast  of  Pentecost. — 
Europe's  Mightiest  Prince. —  The  Old  Spanish  Doubloons. 
— Espials  and  Counter-espials. — The  Cardinal  Visits  the 
King.  —  The  Signal  to   Advance.  —  The  Royal   Retinue. 

—  The  Chevalier  King  Approaches.  —  An  Embrace  on 
Horseback.  —  Dwelling  in  Tents.  —  Henry's  Visit  to 
Queen  Claude.  —  Incurring  a  Risk.  —  The  Royal  Wrest- 
lers.—  French  and  English  Fashions.  —  A  More  Business- 
like Meeting .  .  .  .  .  .  .169 

CHAPTER   XII. 

A  Round  of  Flying  Visits.  —  Check  to  the  King  of  France. 

—  The  Crown  of  Charlemagne.  —  Compensating  Ferdi- 
nand.—  Ignacio  da  Loyola. —  Dona  Maria  Pacheco. —  The 
Romance  of  War. — The  Monk  of  Wittemberg.  —  Burn- 
ing the  Papal  Bull.  —  A  Revolution.  —  Just  and  Gener- 
ous.—  Cropped  Hair  and  Flowing  Beard. — A  Mark  of 
Noble  Birth.  —  More  Red  Hats  than  Helmets. — "The 
Hundred  and  One  Grievances."  —  The  Promise  Given 
Must  Be  Kept. — "  The  Lord  is  My  Defence." — "  If  I  Am 
Wrong,  Prove  it  to  Me."  —  A  Fearless  Spirit.  —  Cap- 
tured by  Armed  Horsemen.  —  A  Transformation.  —  Mind 
and  Body  Benefited.  —  The  Defence  of  the  Faith      .         .  195 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

Rigid  Ideas  of  Morality. —  As  Insensible  as  Ever. —  Bent  on 
Wearing  the  Papal  Crown.  —  War  Begins  in  Earnest.  — 
Humiliating  the  Constable.  —  A  Victory  Missed.  —  An 
Anxious  Mother's  Fears.  —  The  Mother  and  the  Mistress. 

—  Tardy  Repentance.  —  Promises  and  Assurances. —  Des- 
potic Measures.  —  Dying  of  Laughter.  —  A  Sudden  Holy 
Inspiration.  —  Driven  Out  of  Lombardy. —  The  Proceeds 
of  Her  Savings. —  Stormy  Family  Scenes.  —  Vengeance 
Accomplished  .  .  .  .  .  .216 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  New  Complication.  —  A  Shock  for  the  Cardinals.  —  Full 
of  Good  Intentions.  —  The  Inquisition.  —  The  Imperial 
Guest.  —  The   Italian    Emigrants. — The    Rebuilding    of 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Chambord.  —  The  Ambassador's  Report.  —  Duprat  at 
His  Wits' End. — Colonel  of  the  Scotch  Guards.  —  The 
Insignia  of  Royal  Justice. —  Such  Was  His  Good  Pleasure. 

—  Louise  and  Her  Chancellor.  —  A  Contribution  to  the 
Treasury.  —  Avenging  a  Private  Pique.  —  A  Strange  In- 
fatuation. —  Madame  Renee's  Reply.  —  Advice  of  Anne 
de  Beaujeu. —  Was  He  Legitimate?  —  Mother  and  Son. — 

—  Charles  and  Suzanne  de  Bourbon. — Too  Absurd  to 
Believe  .  .  .  .  .  .  .231 

CHAPTER   XV. 

The  Great  Bourbon  Proces. — Bourbon  and  Charles  V. — 
A  Wealthy  Bride  Offered.  —  111 -deserved  Treatment. — 
The  Lieutenant -General.  —  Not  Such  a  Simpleton. — 
Under  the  Seal  of  Confession.  — An  Importunate  Spy. — 
An  Insolent  Subject.  —  The  Bourbon  Plot. —  The  Capital 
in  Danger. —  A  Horrifying  Announcement.  —  A  Too 
Lenient  Parliament.  —  Stratagem  of  Madame  Louise.  — 
Mental  Agony.  —  A  Gloomy  Procession. — A  Message  of 
Mercy.  —  Letters  of  Remission         ....  251 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Sufferings  of  the  Troops. —  Bonnivet  Wounded. —  The 
Chevalier  Bayard.  —  Death  of  the  Chevalier.  —  A  True 
Knight  —  Great  and  Good.  —  Driven  Out  of  Italy.  —  Mar- 
seilles Besieged.  —  Three  Needy  Monarchs.  —  A  March 
into  Picardy  and  Back. — The  Spoils  of  Mexico  and  Peru. 

—  War  Resumed  in  Italy.  —  Death  of  Queen  Claude. — 
A  Compliment  to  the  Queen. —  Funeral  of  Queen  Claude. 

—  "  Plague-stricken  Milan  !  "  —  Antonio  da  Ley  va.  — 
The  Sentiment  of  Honour.  —  Georges  Freundsberg.  — 
Honour  to  Whom  Honour  is  Due. —  The  Battle  of  Pa  via. 

—  A  Delicate  Sense  of  Honour.  —  Francis  a  Prisoner       .  267 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

Tout  est  perdu  fors  Vhonneur. — Honour  but  Partly  Satis- 
fied. —  Appeal  to  Charles's  Generosity.  —  Meeting  of 
Bourbon  and  Francis.  —  Bribing  the  Guard.  —  Escape  of 
Henry  d'Albret.  —  Alas!  What  a  Hypocrite  He  Was!  — 
Edifying  Remarks.  —  To  Arms!  to  Arms  !— Embarrass- 
ing Requests.  —  An  Alliance  with  Portugal.  —  The  Spirit 
of  Moderation.  —  A  Cry  of  Indignation.  — The  Chevalier 
King  Wavers. —  Counter-propositions. —  A  Pledge  of  Rec- 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

onciliation.  —  The  Holy  Italian  League. — An  Ungener- 
ous Proceeding.  —  The  Interesting  Captive.  —  Meeting  of 
Charles  and  Francis.  —  Marguerite's  Diplomacy.  —  An 
Heroic  Sacrifice.  —  Burgundy  Ceded;  Honour  Saved. — ■ 
The  Armies  of  the  Empire.  —  The  Monarch's  Return. — 
Not  Long  in  Suspense  .....  287 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

His  Native  Air  Prescribed.  —  More  Betrothals  Proposed. — 
Increased  Dissipation.  —  Mademoiselle  d'Heilly.  —  A  Nu- 
merous Family.  —  A  Wayward  Girl  of  Many  Moods. — 
The  Jewels  Returned.  —  The  Countess's  Revenge.  —  The 
New  Maitresse-en-titre.  —  The  Peasants'  War.  —  A  Cure 
for  Lutheranism.  —  A  Gallican  Holy  Office.  —  The 
Bishop  and  His  Disciple.  —  The  Hermit  of  Vitry. — 
Louis  de  Berquin.  —  Marriage  of  Marguerite.  —  A  Re- 
straint on  Court  Gaiety        .  .  .  .  -310 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

Anne  Boleyn.  —  Vexing  Her  liege  Lord.  —  Amusing  the 
Ambassadors. —  Let  Him  Return  to  Captivity.  —  The 
Modern  Regulus. —  Great  Services  Recompensed. —  Bour- 
bon's Band  of  Adventurers.  —  Vivas  for  Bourbon.  —  The 
Grand  Imperial  Army.  —  In  Pursuit  of  Bourbon.  —  The 
Doomed  City.  —  Death  of  Charles  de  Bourbon. —  Fruit- 
less Prayers. —  The  Sack  of  Rome  .  .  .  325 

CHAPTER    XX. 

Relieved  from  a  Difficulty.  —  Clement  VII.  a  Prisoner. — 
War  for  the  Release  of  the  Pope.  —  The  Pope's  Ransom. 
—  Clement  Escapes  in  Disguise.  —  The  Divorce  and 
Absolution.  —  Burgundy  or  Captivity. —  Royal  Conde- 
scension!—  A  Bold  and  Startling  Opinion.  —  Magnani- 
mous Frenchmen!  —  The  Challenge  and  the  Reply. — ■ 
The  Chevalier  King  Holds  Back.  —  Marriage  of  Madame 
Renee.  —  Madame  Renee's  Bridal  Dress.  —  Edifying  and 
Effective. — An  Accomplished  Pupil.  —  The  French  Fleet 
in  the  Levant.  —  Loss  of  a  Faithful  Ally. —  Heretics  and 
Infidels. —  Two  Wily  Female  Diplomatists.  —  The  Ladies' 
Peace. —  New  Coinage  for  the  Ransom.  —  Mutual  Pre- 
cautions. —  The  Spanish  Bride.  —  Fall  of  Florence  .  338 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


Vol.    I. 


PAGE 

Diane  of  Poitiers 

Frontispiece 

Anne  of  Brittany 

.       16 

Louis  XII. 

•      34 

St.  Germain 

.     106 

Charles  VIII.    ....... 

.     1 60 

Henry  VIII 

•     194 

Castle  of  Blois 

.         .     27S 

Louise  of  Savoy,  Duchesse  d'  Angouleme 

•     334 

THE 


COURT    OF    FRANCE 


IN    THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY 


I5H— 1559 


CHAPTER    I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 

>N  the  morning  of  the  27th  of  January, 
1 5  14,  a  grand  and  solemn  funeral  pag- 
eant issued  from  the  Chateau  de  Blois, 
accompanying  to  Paris,  and  thence  to  the  royal 
sepulchre  of  St.  Denis,  the  body  of  Anne  of  Brit- 
tany—  the  twice -crowned  Queen  of  France  — 
widow  of  Charles  VIII.,  and  wife  of  his  successor, 
the  then  reigning  monarch,  Louis  XII. 

The  lying  in  state  of  the  deceased  royal  lady, 
in  the  superb  apartment  recently  added  to  the 
Chateau  de  Blois,  has  been  described  as  a  scene 
of  surpassing  magnificence  and  solemnity,  ren- 
dered more  especially  impressive  by  the  youthful 
appearance  of  the  queen  and  her  singular  beauty 
in  death. 


2  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

No  royal  funeral  had  been  hitherto  witnessed 
in  France  approaching  in  splendour  that  of  this 
much -loved  consort  of  Louis  XII.,  whose  pre- 
mature death,  on  the  9th  of  January,  in  her  thirty- 
seventh  year,  had  plunged  the  king  into  deepest 
grief.  Nor  did  the  "  Father  of  the  people " 
mourn  alone.  For  Anne  of  Brittany — the  most 
distinguished  of  the  queens  of  France  —  was 
much  and  sincerely  regretted,  not  only  by  the 
Bretons,  who  adored  her  and  were  inconsolable 
for  her  loss,  but  by  the  French  nation  generally, 
who  evinced  much  sympathy  with  the  sorrow  of 
the  king.* 

Owing  to  the  inclemency  of  the  season,  and 
the  wretched  condition  of  the  roads  in  those  days, 
the  last  of  the  many  stations,  or  appointed  rest- 
ing-places, on  the  journey  from  Blois  to  the 
Church  of  Notre- Dame  des  Champs,  was  not 
reached  till  the  14th  of  February.  The  funeral 
cortege  was  there  joined  by  the  chief  members  of 
the  University,  a  numerous  company  of  priests, 
and  the  superior  clergy  of  the  various  churches  of 
the  capital,  headed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  all 
wearing  their  richest  vestments  and  carrying  their 
distinctive  banners  and  crosses. 

Preceding  the  royal  bier,  they  entered  Paris  by 

the  Porte  St.  Jacques.     There,  a  vast  concourse 

of  the  people  had  assembled,  anxiously  expectant, 

yet  of  most  reverent  demeanour;   for,  when  the 

*  Gamier,  "  Histoire  de  France." 


THE  ARRIVAL   IN  PARIS  3 

low,  distant,  wailing  tones  of  the  priests  chanting 
the  Miserere  first  reached  the  ear,  all  piously  fell 
on  their  knees,  and  remained  in  that  humble  pos- 
ture, bareheaded  and  with  clasped  hands,  as  if  in 
prayer,  until  the  whole  procession  had  passed 
through  the  gate. 

The  mists  of  evening  were  o'erspreading  the 
city,  and,  already,  the  mounted  attendants  had 
lighted  their  torches,  thus  adding  much  pictur- 
esque effect  to  the  cortege  of  death,  as  the  flicker- 
ing rays,  that  relieved  the  gathering  gloom  of 
night,  flashed  on  the  gold  and  jewels  adorning  the 
sable  garments  of  the  cavalcade  of  mourners,  and 
the  trappings  of  their  richly  caparisoned  horses. 
Black  draperies  covered  the  fronts  of  the  houses 
in  those  streets  through  which  the  procession 
passed,  and  lighted  torches  were  placed  at  the 
windows  and  doors  of  every  dwelling. 

Early  on  the  morrow,  the  body  of  the  late 
queen  was  removed  from  its  temporary  resting- 
place  of  the  previous  night,  in  the  Cathedral  of 
Notre -Dame  de  Paris,  and  borne  to  its  final  one 
in  the  Abbey  of  St.  Denis.  The  bier  was  drawn 
by  six  black  horses,  their  richly  embroidered, 
gold-fringed  housings  reaching  to  the  ground,  cov- 
ering them  entirely.  The  length  and  weight  of 
these  too  ample  draperies  greatly  impeding  the 
animals'  movements,  each  horse  was  led  by  a  pale- 
frenier,  or  groom,  whose  dress  was  of  black  velvet, 
satin  and  gold. 


4  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

A  crimson  velvet  pall,  bordered  with  ermine, 
was  thrown  over  the  coffin.  Above  it  was  a 
litter,  lined  with  cloth  of  gold,  wherein  lay  an 
effigy  of  the  late  queen,  magnificently  arrayed  in 
royal  robes.  At  her  head  was  a  cushion  of  cloth 
of  gold,  on  which  stood  the  two  crowns  of  France 
and  Brittany.  Her  right  hand  held  the  sceptre, 
her  left,  the  "hand  of  justice."  A  canopy  of 
crimson  silk,  richly  fringed,  and  embroidered  with 
the  French  and  Breton  arms,  surmounted  the 
litter,  around  which  the  priests  were  grouped, 
praying  or  chanting  the  appointed  canticles. 

The  princesses  and  ladies  of  the  court,  with 
the  late  queen's  maids  of  honour,  followed  in 
litters,*  closely  covered  —  the  cold  being  very 
severe  —  and  curtained  with  velvet  fringed  with 
gold.  On  arriving  at  St.  Denis,  the  body  of  the 
queen  was  placed  in  a  splendid  catafalque  pre- 
pared for  its  temporary  reception  in  the  nave  of 
the  abbey,  which  was  draped  with  elaborately  em- 
broidered velvet  hangings,  of  crimson  and  black 
alternately.  What  little  daylight  yet  remained 
was  carefully  excluded,  and  a  dim  religious  light 
diffused  through  the  sacred  edifice  by  means  of 
lamps  concealed  in  partially  darkened  niches. 

The  sombre  grandeur  of  the  scene  at  the  mo- 
ment of  commencing  the  service  for  the  dead 
must  have  been  strikingly  impressive.  The  priests 
and  the  dignitaries  of  the  Church,  in  their  rich 
*  Carriages  were  not  in  use  until  several  years  later. 


THE  ASSEMBLED  MOURNERS  5 

and  varied  vestments,  were  assembled  around 
the  catafalque.  The  princes  of  the  blood,  the 
princesses,  and  other  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  court,  with  the  royal  pages,  having  taken  the 
places  assigned  them,  the  fifty  gentlemen  of 
the  king's  guards,  and  the  same  number  of  the 
queen's,  who  had  formed  the  escort,  ranged  them- 
selves in  their  rear,  while  behind  these,  filling  up 
the  nave,  stood  the  numerous  train  of  attendants. 

The  ladies  wore  magnificent  robes  of  rich,  black 
damask  interwoven  with  gold,  with  sweeping 
trains  and  hanging  Venetian  sleeves  lined  with 
fur.  A  long,  black  veil  of  Italian  tissue  was 
attached  by  a  diamond  clasp,  or  brooch,  to  a 
small,  round,  velvet  hat  with  a  turned -up  brim, 
edged  with  gold  and  pearls,  —  a  head-dress  that 
had  been  introduced  by  Anne  herself,  at  her  first 
coronation.* 

Doublet,  vest,  trunk -hose,  and  mantle,  all  of 
sable  hue,  but  enriched  with  gold,  were  worn  by 
the  princes  and  courtiers  who  accompanied  the 
cortege,  —  a  velvet  hat  with  small  black  plume,  the 
brim  looped  up  at  the  side  with  diamond  or  pearl, 
completing  their  mourning  costume.  The  royal 
guards  and  the  rest  of  the  retinue  were  also  hab- 
ited in  black,  material  and  embroidery  being 
more  or  less  rich  according  to  the  rank  of  the 

*  Less  appropriate,  one  would  have  thought,  for  this  solemn 
occasion,  than  the  veil  and  chaperon,  or  hood,  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  wear  at  a  later  period. 


6  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

wearer.  Thus,  of  violet,  the  former  court  mourn- 
ing, not  a  trace  appeared,  except  in  the  vestments 
of  the  clergy ;  for,  in  deference  to  the  wishes  of 
the  late  queen,  Louis  had  strictly  prohibited  it. 

When  Charles  VIII.  died,  Anne  had  decreed 
that  black  should  be  worn,  —  "  its  unchangeable 
colour,"  she  said,  "being  more  suited  to  the  out- 
ward expression  of  lasting  grief  on  so  melancholy 
an  occasion  than  the  quickly  fading  violet,  which 
seemed  to  denote  a  like  transientness  in  the  sorrow 
of  the  wearer."  She  herself  wore  black,  rejecting 
the  usual  white  robes  of  the  reines  blanches  —  a 
term  then  applied  to  the  widowed  queens  of  France, 
because  of  their  colourless  mourning.* 


*  Yet  within  nine  months  of  Charles's  death  Anne  exchanged 
her  black  robes — symbol  of  the  constancy  of  grief  —  for  the  rich 
and  elegant  ones  of  blue  and  gold  damask,  in  which  for  the 
second  time  she  became  a  king's  bride.  True,  she  was  inter- 
dicted by  her  first  marriage  contract  from  marrying  a  second 
time,  in  the  event  of  the  king  dying  without  male  heirs,  except 
to  Charles's  successor,  or  to  that  successor's  heir.  For  it  was 
imperative  that  Anne's  noble  dowry  —  the  Duchy  of  Brittany 
with  its  hundred  leagues  of  coast-line  and  hardy  population  — 
should  not  be  alienated  from  France,  but  become  an  integral 
part  of  it  by  the  marriage  above  indicated.  There,  however, 
existed,  independently  of  this,  a  strong  mutual  inclination  for 
the  matrimonial  alliance ;  and  Anne,  in  her  grief  for  the  faithless 
Charles,  was  soon  consoled  by  Charles's  successor.  According 
to  Sismondi,  she  was  betrothed  to  Louis  XII.  in  the  second 
month  of  her  widowhood.  Another  historian  (Henri  Martin) 
says  the  fourth.  At  all  events,  before  their  marriage  could  take 
place  Louis's  divorce  from  poor  deformed  Jeanne  de  France,  to 
whom  Louis  XI.  had  married  him  when  a  boy,  had  to  be  obtained 


THE  FUNERAL    ORATION  7 

When  the  funeral  service  was  ended,  the  arch- 
bishop began  his  oration. 

Those  were  not  the  days  of  great  pulpit  ora- 
tors, though  mass,  followed  by  a  very  plain-spoken 
sermon,  often  drew  large  congregations.  But  no 
Bossuets,  or  Bourdaloues,  Flechiers  or  Massillons, 
had  yet  appeared  to  thrill  the  hearts  of  their  hear- 
ers and  call  forth  vivid  emotion  as,  with  eloquent 
exaggeration,  they  extolled  the  virtue,  the  hero- 
ism, or  other  great  qualities  attributed  to  the  noble 
or  royal  deceased.  Anne,  however,  had  merits 
sufficiently  conspicuous  to  inspire  a  less  gifted 
orator  with  a  warm  and  deserved  eulogism. 

Though  sometimes  accused  of  loving  her  native 
Brittany  far  more  than  she  ever  loved  France,  and 
of  possessing  a  very  full  share  of  the  self-will  and 
overbearing  temper  supposed  to  be  characteristic 
of  the  Breton  race,  none  have  denied  her  great 
benevolence,  and  much  thoughtful  care  for  the 
aged  poor,  for  whom  she  built  an  asylum. 

The  large  revenue  derived  from  her  duchy  — 
nearly  the  whole  of  which  was  assigned  to  her 
separate  use  —  she  employed  to  a  considerable 
extent  in  recompensing  services  rendered  to  the 

from  the  Pope.  Louis  was  then  thirty-six ;  Anne  was  twenty-two, 
a  charmingly  piquante  brunette,  full  of  esprit  and  intelligence,  as 
described  by  the  Venetian  ambassador,  Contarini.  "  She  had  nat- 
urally," he  says,  "  an  air  of  dignity,  and  very  gracious  manners, 
though  rather  haughty  when  displeased.  A  slight  limp  in  her 
walk  she  very  skilfully  concealed  by  a  difference  of  height  in  the 
heels  of  her  shoes." 


8  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

state ;  in  rewarding  those  who  had  distinguished 
themselves  in  the  wars  by  brilliant  achievements 
or  acts  of  bravery ;  in  assuring  an  honourable 
retirement  to  officers  and  men  disabled  by  wounds 
from  further  service,  and  generally,  as  the  arch- 
bishop forcibly  urged,  in  befriending  the  poor  and 
the  unfortunate  —  whether  of  Brittany  or  France.* 

Anne,  who  was  sincerely  pious,  had  been  greatly 
grieved  by  the  discord  and  enmity  so  long  subsist- 
ing between  Louis  XII.  and  the  warlike,  impla- 
cable Pope,  Julian  II.  To  such  extremes  had 
hostile  feeling  been  carried  that  Louis,  after  con- 
voking a  council  of  the  clergy  at  Tours,  declared 
the  Pope  deprived  of  the  exercise  of  his  papal 
functions,  and  also  struck  a  medal  with  the  bold 
inscription,  "  Perdam  Baby  Ion  is  nomen  /" 

Julian  retaliated  by  proclaiming  Louis  dethroned, 
and  offering  his  kingdom  to  any  other  power  that 
chose  to  take  possession  of  it.  Vain  words,  of 
course.  At  the  same  time  he  transferred  the 
French  monarch's  title  of  "Most  Christian  King" 
to  Henry  VIII.  of  England.  Henry,  then  but  in 
his  twenty-first  year,  evinced  the  greatest  horror 
at  the  prospect  of  schism,  with  which  the  Church 
at  that  time  was  menaced ;  and  Julian,  further 
to  stimulate  the  piety  of  this  apparently  most 
devoted  of  its  sons,  sent  Henry  the  golden  rose 
that  year. 

But   when  the  aged   yet   intrepid    prelate   was 

*  See  Gamier,  "  Histoire  de  France." 


THE  HERALD  KING- AT- ARMS  9 

suddenly  stricken  by  death,  almost  on  the  battle- 
field, and  was  succeeded  by  Leo  X.,  then  Anne, 
in  failing  health  and  near  her  end,  urged  the 
king  to  seek  reconciliation  with  the  Papal  Court. 
Regarding  it  as  her  dying  request,  Louis  con- 
sented. 

Leo,  secretly,  was  no  less  hostile  than  his 
predecessor  to  France  and  her  king ;  but,  unlike 
Julian,  he  had  not  personally  insulted  Louis  XII. 
With  but  little  difficulty,  therefore,  peace  with 
Rome  ensued  —  a  peace,  in  accordance  with  the 
political  chicanery  of  the  time,  to  last  as  long  as 
it  suited  the  convenience  or  good  pleasure  of  either 
party  to  maintain  it.  The  French  clergy,  however, 
whose  interests  were  served  by  the  queen's  inter- 
cession, declared  it  the  most  meritorious  act  of 
her  life,  "ensuring  her  a  heavenly  crown  in  ex- 
change for  her  earthly  one."  It  was  lauded  by- 
the  archbishop  accordingly,  and  with  it  his  eulo- 
gium  ended. 

The  abbey  gates  were  then  thrown  open,  and 
on  the  threshold  appeared  the  herald  king-at-arms 
on  horseback.  In  loud  yet  solemn  tones  he  pro- 
claimed the  death  of  "  the  illustrious  sovereign 
lady,  Anne,  most  Christian  Queen  of  France, 
Duchess  of  Brittany,  and  Comtesse  d'  Etampes." 
Advancing  a  pace  or  two,  he  repeated  this  an- 
nouncement, and  again  a  third  time  at  the  entrance 
of  the  nave.*  This  concluded  the  funeral  cere- 
*Brant6me,  "Dames  illustres" 


IO  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

mony.  The  archbishop  then  gave  his  blessing, 
and,  after  a  moment  or  two  of  silent  prayer,  the 
throng  of  mourners  dispersed  in  the  order  pre- 
arranged. 

The  Bretonne  queen  was  distinguished  for  her 
royally  munificent  patronage  of  art  no  less  than 
for  piety  and  good  deeds.  More  especially  she 
encouraged  native  talent,  which,  in  the  opinion  of 
several  French  writers  —  as  regarded  architecture 
and  sculpture  —  had  no  need  of  Italian  aid.*  The 
splendid  tomb  she  erected  to  her  father,  Duke 
Francis  II.,  in  the  Cathedral  of  Nantes,  was  the 
work  of  a  native  artist,  the  famous  Michel  Columb, 
and  is  considered  one  of  the  chefs  -  d'ceuvre  of 
French  sculpture. 

Her  livre  d' he  tires,  or  prayer-book  (preserved  in 
the  Louvre),  is  also  a  remarkable  work  of  art, 
being  a  finely  executed  manuscript  on  vellum, 
beautifully  illuminated  with  a  series  of  designs 
representing  the  various  operations  of  husbandry 
appropriate  to  each  month  of  the  year,  with  the 
plants,  herbs  and  insects  peculiar  to  it,  designed 
in  the  margin  and  rendered  with  perfect  fidelity. 
It  is  a  work  of  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  — 
a  magnificent  specimen  of  the  skill  and  taste  of 
the  artists  employed  on  it.      Most  probably  it  was 

*  "  En  Italie"  remarks  M.  Leon  Palustre,  in  his  work  on  the 
"  Renaissance,"  "  tout  renait.  En  France  c'est  un  simple  renou- 
vellement." 


THE    QUEEN'S  LIVRE  £>'  HE  U RES  II 

the  work,  or  chiefly  so,  of  Paganini,  who  with  sev- 
eral other  artists  of  ability,  as  mentioned  by 
Comines,  crossed  the  Alps  with  Charles  VIII.  on 
his  return  from  Italy.  Paganini  appears  to  have 
been  clever  both  as  painter  and  sculptor,  but  to 
have  excelled  especially  in  the  art  of  illuminating, 
which,  as  Anne  doubtless  soon  discovered,  was 
his  favourite  pursuit.* 

In  the  course  of  her  double  reign  of  twenty-two 
years,  Anne  initiated  many  changes  in  the  social 
regime  of  the  court.  Not  only  was  she  a  patron- 
ess of  learning,  but  was  herself  one  of  the  learned 
ladies  of  her  day.  She  read  the  ancient  Greek 
and  Latin  authors,  and  had  a  considerable  ac- 
quaintance with  modern  languages.  To  eminent 
men  of  letters,  who  sought  the  honour  of  being 
presented  to  her,  she  gave  a  very  gracious  recep- 
tion, and  was  fond  of  conversing  with  them.  The 
poets  of  the  period — poets  certainly  of  no  great 
fame,  yet  a  pleiad  of  twinkling  luminaries,  pre- 
cursor of  one  of  brighter  lights  —  found  a  patron- 


*  Paganini  was  employed  by  Charles  to  carry  out  his  projects 
for  enlarging  and  embellishing  the  Chateau  d'  Amboise.  A  fatal 
accident  soon  terminated  Charles's  career,  and  Paganini  was 
then  selected  to  design  and  execute  the  tomb  of  his  patron.  It 
was  of  black  marble  with  bronze  figures,  and  is  said  to  have  been 
a  fine  work  of  art.  Unfortunately  it  was  destroyed  at  the  Revo- 
lution. Comines  thought  so  highly  of  it  that  he  commissioned 
the  artist  to  execute  his  tomb  in  a  similar  style,  and  the  work 
was  completed  under  the  supervision  of  the  man  whose  remains 
it  was  to  cover.     The  tomb  of  Comines  is  now  in  the  Louvre. 


12  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

ess  in  the  queen.  Amongst  them  was  Jean 
Marot,  father  of  the  more  famous  Clement ;  the 
youthful  Clement  being  also  her  protege,  and  his 
earlier  productions  read  in  the  queen's  apartment, 
while  she  and  "ses  jilles"  worked  at  their  point- 
lace  or  tapestry. 

A  number  of  young  ladies  of  noble  birth,  whom 
at  first  she  was  accustomed  to  call  "  ses  Ji//es," 
but  afterwards  gave  them  the  title  of  "Jilles  d'hon- 
neur"  or  maids  of  honour,  resided  in  the  palace 
under  the  queen's  protection.  They  were  care- 
fully trained  and  educated  to  become  her  and  her 
daughters'  companions.  Some  were  orphans,  but 
all  were  slenderly  provided  for.  When  opportu- 
nity offered,  however,  advantageously  to  marry 
her  maids,  she  either  added  considerably  to  their 
own  small  fortunes,  or,  when  none  was  forth- 
coming, generously  gave  one. 

Before  the  time  of  "  Madame  Anne,  the  duchess- 
queen,"  one  might  have  well  supposed  that  the 
Salic  law  not  only  rigidly  excluded  woman  from 
the  succession  to  the  throne,  but  was  as  jealously 
intolerant  of  her  presence  at  court,  —  if  court  it 
could  be  called,  where  no  queen  presided,  no  ladies 
attended. 

The  king,  princes,  courtiers,  and  nobility  gener- 
ally, when  not  actually  engaged  in  war,  which  was 
seldom,  or  occupied  with  public  affairs,  —  which 
meant  chiefly  devising  new  wars  and  new  taxes,  — 
found  the   relaxation  best    suited   to  their  tastes 


ROYAL   SPORTS  AND   BANQUETS  1 3 

and  habits  in  rough  sports  and  games.  There 
was  the  mimic  warfare  of  jousts  and  tournaments, 
by  which  the  ancient  spirit  of  chivalry  was  sup- 
posed to  be  sustained.  There  were  the  great 
hunts  in  the  forests  of  Chaumont,  Fontainebleau, 
St.  Germain,  or  Vincennes  ;  and  when  the  day's 
exciting  sport  was  ended,  there  was  the  amply 
spread  supper -table  to  repair  to,  where  jesting, 
practical  joking,  and  boisterous  mirth  —  partly  in- 
spired by  goblets  of  Hypocras,  champagne,  or  the 
potent  old  wines  of  the  Juragon  —  gave  a  keener 
zest  to  the  viands  killed  in  the  chase. 

Conspicuous  amongst  these  were  the  roebuck, 
roasted  whole  and  served  with  a  sauce  of  balm- 
mint  and  fennel  (recently  imported  into  France 
with  many  other  of  the  vegetable  products  of 
Italy),  the  highly  flavoured  haunch,  and  the  wild 
boar's  head.  Royal  dishes  all  of  them,  and  sub- 
stantial ones,  too,  on  which  only  the  great  ones  of 
the  earth  might  then  presume  to  feast.  Italian 
cookery  as  yet  scarcely  satisfied  the  hearty  appe- 
tites of  these  robust  cavaliers,  whose  pleasures  and 
amusements  were  all  external,  and  who  took  but 
two  meals  a  clay. 

To  the  calmer  enjoyments  of  domestic  life  the 
men  of  this  period,  and  especially  those  of  the 
upper  ranks,  were  utterly  strangers.  But  a  change 
in  manners  began,  and,  as  regards  social  life,  the 
step  that  may  be  "  considered  as  signalising  the 
passage  from  the  middle  ages  to  modern  times,  and 


14  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

from  ancient  barbarism  to  civilisation,"  *  was  taken 
when,  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century,  Anne 
of  Brittany  —  the  first  queen  -  consort  of  France 
who  held  a  separate  court  —  desired  the  ministers 
of  state  and  foreign  ambassadors  who  attended, 
to  offer  their  congratulations  on  her  marriage  with 
Louis  XII.,  to  bring  their  wives  and  daughters 
with  them  when  next  they  paid  their  respects  to 
her.  To  the  ladies,  themselves,  she  sent  her  invi- 
tation, or  royal  command,  to  leave  their  gloomy 
feudal  abodes,  where  they  were  sometimes  im- 
mured for  years  together,  and  repair  to  the  court 
of  their  sovereign  lady  at  the  Palais  des  Tournelles 
or  Chateau  de  Blois. 

The  moment  was  well  chosen.  It  was  a  festive 
occasion,  and  the  fair  chatelaines  were  by  no  means 
reluctant   to  obey  the   summons   of  their  queen. 

*  The  words  above  quoted  are  used  by  Sismondi  with  refer- 
ence to  the  accession  of  Francis  I.  But  they  seem  to  apply 
with  more  force  to  an  earlier  date:  ist,as  regards  social  life,  to 
that  great  innovation  which  ushered  in  the  sixteenth  century  — 
the  establishing  of  a  court  of  ladies  by  the  Bretonne  queen  ; 
2d,  with  reference  to  the  revival  of  art  in  France  — surely  it 
was  the  Cardinal  Georges  d'Amboise  who,  in  1599,  struck  with 
admiration  of  the  marvels  he  beheld  in  Lombardy,  induced 
Italian  sculptors,  architects,  and  painters  to  visit  France,  and 
employed  them  to  superintend  the  building  and  embellishment 
of  his  splendid  palace  of  Gaillon  (destroyed,  unfortunately,  at 
the  Revolution),  as  well  as  in  the  erection  of  churches  and  other 
public  edifices  of  Rouen,  and  in  otherwise  beautifying  that  city, 
the  seat  of  his  archbishopric.  The  cost  of  these  great  works 
was  defrayed  by  the  cardinal,  who  was  no  vainglorious  patron, 
but  a  true  lover  of  art. 


A   STARTLING   INNOVATION  I  5 

But  the  lords  of  those  ladies,  and  especially  the 
more  elderly  ones,  murmured  greatly  at  the  at- 
tempted startling  innovation.  Hitherto  they  were 
accustomed  to  expend  their  revenues  chiefly  on 
themselves.  They  must  have  gay  court  dresses, 
picturesque  hunting  costumes,  horses,  and  dogs, 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  the  chase.  Besides 
these,  there  was  the  splendid  panoply  of  war,  — the 
burnished  helmets,  the  polished  steel  armour  in 
which  they  were  wont  to  encase  themselves  when, 
attended  each  by  a  suite  of  four  or  five  horsemen 
similarly  equipped,  they  went  forth  to"  fight  their 
foes.  Naturally,  then,  they  were  little  disposed  to 
incur  any  new  outlay  for  wives  and  daughters  that 
necessitated  curtailment  of  their  own. 

By  the  younger  courtiers  Louis  XII.  was  con- 
sidered rather  penurious.  But,  in  fact,  he  was  so 
unwilling  to  burden  his  people  with  taxes,  that, 
beyond  greatly  embellishing  his  chateaux  of  Ara- 
boise  and  Blois  (for  which  he  employed  native 
artists,  under  the  direction  of  the  great  architect 
Fra-Giocondo),  he  refrained  from  gratifying  any 
expensive  tastes.  But  Anne  disbursed  with  a 
more  liberal  hand,  and  kept  up  great  state  at  her 
separate  court,  of  Blois  and  Des  Tournelles.  She 
also  dressed  with  great  elegance  and  magnificence, 
and  required  the  ladies  who  attended  her  to  do 
likewise. 

"What  she  has  it  in  her  mind  to  do,"  writes 
at  this  time  the  Ambassador  Contarini,  "she  will 


1 6  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

certainly  accomplish,  whether  it  be  by  tears,  smiles, 
or  entreaties."  And  quietly  but  firmly,  wholly  dis- 
regarding the  opposition  of  the  elderly  nobles,  she 
effected  the  revolution  she  had  long  desired  in  the 
social  regime  of  the  court.  The  younger  nobility  and 
the  ditc  of  the  world  of  art  and  letters  entered 
readily  into  her  views,  and  the  receptions  in  the 
queen's  apartment  soon  became  a  centre  of  great 
attraction.  There,  following  the  Italian  fashion, — 
which  Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII.,  it  appears, 
had  both  found  much  to  their  taste, —  sorbets  and 
iced  lemonade  were  served.  Her  banquets,  too  — • 
for  the  duchess-queen  had  her  banquets  as  well  as 
the  king  —  were  arranged  with  more  order  and 
with  especial  regard  to  what  was  due  to  the  ladies. 
Each  lady  had  now  her  cavalier,  which  had  not 
always  been  the  case.  Each  guest  had  also  a 
separate  plate  ;  for  Anne  would  not  dip  in  another's 
dish,  though  it  were  even  the  king's.  Doubtless, 
the  forks,  long  in  use  in  Italy,  would  soon  have  been 
introduced  at  her  table,  had  the  reforming  queen 
been  spared.  But  they  had  yet  to  wait  a  century 
before  finding  in .  France  a  patron  in  the  Due  de 
Montausier.  En  attendant,  rose-water  was  handed 
round  in  silver  basins. 

The  senior  nobles,  however,  made  no  scruple  of 
strongly  hinting  to  the  king  that  he  would  do  well 
in  this  and  other  matters  to  yield  less  readily  to 
the  queen's  domination. 

To  this  he  replied,  "Some  indulgence  should  be 


Anne  of  Brittany. 

Photo-etching  from  engraving  by  Hopwood. 


REPROVING    THE   BRETON NE  QUEEN        I J 

conceded  to  a  woman  who  loves  her  husband 
and  is  solicitous  both  for  his  honour  and  her 
own." 

Yet,  sometimes  he  did  resist  her  wishes,  and  by 
fables  and  parables — notably,  his  favourite  one  of 
the  does  which  had  lost  their  antlers  because  they 
desired  to  put  themselves  on  an  equality  with 
the  stags  —  showed  her  that  it  was  not  seemly  that 
woman's  will  should  always  prevail  over  her  hus- 
band's. This  mild  method  of  administering  reproof 
to  "his  Bretonne,"  as  he  was  accustomed  to  call 
his  queen,  seems  to  have  often  amused,  if  it  did  not 
always  convince  her.  However,  to  the  Bretonne 
queen  the  merit  undoubtedly  belongs  of  setting 
the  ladies  of  her  court,  in  an  age  of  lax  moral- 
ity, a  much  -  needed  example  of  virtuous  con- 
duct and  conjugal  fidelity,  as  well  as  of  the  useful 
employment  of  time  and  the  cultivation  of  their 
minds. 

Unhappily,  her  example  was  not  always  followed, 
even  during  her  lifetime,  as  may  be  inferred  from 
Louis's  reply  above  quoted.  But  it  was  altogether 
set  at  naught  when,  after  her  decease  and  the  ac- 
cession of  Francis  to  the  throne,  Louise  of  Savoy, 
the  young  king's  mother,  assumed  the  chief  place 
at  court.  Anne's  aversion  to  Louise  was  so  intense 
that  mortified  feeling  at  the  prospect  of  her  Duchy 
of  Brittany  passing  into  the  hands  of  the  son  of 
that  depraved  woman  is  said  to  have  accelerated 
her  death.     But  the  dismemberment  of  France  — 


1 8  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

which  to  avert  was  a  national  consideration  that 
naturally  outweighed  every  other  —  would  have 
been  the  result  of  the  marriage,  as  desired  by 
Anne,  of  her  daughter  Claude  with  the  Archduke 
Charles  of  Austria. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Consolation  Offered.  —  Thirty-two,  or  Sixteen  ?  —  Le  Bon  Roi 
Louis  Douze.  —  Betrothal  of  Claude  and  Francis. —  The 
Royal  Nuptials. —  Gloomy  Splendour. —  His  Highness  of 
England. —  The  Battle  of  the  Spurs. —  The  Royal  Bride. — 
The  Bride's  Entry  into  Paris. —  Bridal  Festivities. —  Mater- 
nal Anxiety. —  Departing  Guests. —  Death  of  Louis  XII. — 
Les  Enfants  sans  Souci. —  Cardinal  Georges  d'Amboise. 
—  Louis's  Severity  in  Italy. 

IHILE  Louis  XII.,  still  in  the  first  par- 
oxysm of  his  grief,  was  bitterly  bewail- 
ing the  loss  of  his  Bretonne  —  lying  on 
the  floor  of  his  darkened  apartment,  according  to 
the  custom  of  the  time,  sobbing  and  weeping,  and 
refusing  to  take  nourishment  —  the  wily  Ferdinand 
of  Spain,  though  leagued  with  the  great  powers  of 
Europe  against  France,  sought  to  console  the  royal 
widower  by  the  offer  of  a  youthful  bride.  Not- 
withstanding his  wailings,  his  torrents  of  tears,  and 
the  undoubted  sincerity  of  his  attachment  to  Anne, 
Louis  yet  turned  no  unfavourable  ear  to  this  offer. 
The  chief  inducement  was  the  prospect  it  opened 
to  him  of  a  general  peace  ;  for  France  was  attacked 
by  enemies  on  all  sides,  and  since  the  battle  of 
Ravenna  had  been  far  from  successful  in  opposing 
them.     He  was   also  influenced   by  the   possible 

19 


20  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

realisation  of  his  long -cherished  hope  of  leaving 
the  crown  to  a  son  of  his  own. 

As  a  preliminary  to  the  matrimonial  negotia- 
tion, a  truce  for  a  year  was  signed  on  the  1 3th  of 
March,  15 14.  Ferdinand  then  offered  the  French 
king,  as  a  pledge  of  his  sincerity  and  amity,  the 
hand  of  the  twice  -  widowed  Margaret  of  Austria, 
Governess  of  the  Netherlands,  and  then  thirty-two 
years  of  age;  or  that  of  the  Princess  Eleanora, 
sister  of  the  Archdukes  Charles  and  Ferdinand, 
and  who  was  but  in  her  sixteenth  year.  The  sor- 
rowing king  rather  inclined  to  a  marriage  with  the 
younger  princess,  though  Fleuranges  states*  that 
"for  many  reasons,  Louis  had  no  real  wish  to 
marry  either." 

Louis  XII.  was  then  fifty -three,  but  in  consti- 
tution much  older.  Though  never  robust,  his  life 
had  been  wild  and  adventurous,  and  he  had  figured 
in  his  youth  as  gayest  of  the  band  of  gay  cavaliers. 
He  had  also  suffered  much  in  the  wars  from 
wounds  and  contusions,  owing  to  frequent  individ- 
ual headlong  charges  of  the  enemy,  —  a  practice, 
though  faulty  and  dangerous,  yet  not  uncommon, 
it  appears,  in  those  days  amongst  the  splendidly 
equipped  and  really  brave,  but  wholly  undisci- 
plined, corps  of  cavalry  or  gendarmerie,  composed 
of  the  young  nobility. f  Defiant  and  daring,  he 
was  accustomed   to  say,  when  sometimes  remon- 

*  "  Memoires  dn  Jeune  Aventureux" 

t  Servan,  "Guerres  des  Francais  en  Jtalie." 


LE  BON  ROI  LOUIS  DOUZE  2  1 

strated  with  for  his  recklessness,  "  I  am  not  afraid  ; 
let  those  who  are  shelter  themselves  behind  me." 

But  these  brave  days  were  past ;  the  fire  of 
youth  was  burnt  out,  and  the  once  brilliant  Louis 
d' Orleans  was  now  "  le  bou  rot,"  the  "  Father  of  the 
people,"  and  a  confirmed  invalid.  Twice,  during 
his  reign  of  sixteen  years,  he  had  so  nearly  ap- 
proached death's  door  as  to  have  received  extreme 
unction.  On  each  occasion  he  had  rallied,  and 
again  had  invaded  Italy  at  the  head  of  his  army; 
but  frequent  relapses  of  excessive  languor  now 
rendered  him  wholly  unable  to  undergo  any  fatigue. 

In  1 510  he  had  deeply  felt  and  mourned  the 
loss  of  his  lifelong  friend,  his  "trusty  Georges," 
Cardinal  d'Amboise,  the  great  patron  of  les  beaux 
arts  and  letters,  and  Louis's  first  minister;  indeed, 
the  first  who  held  that  important  office  in  France. 
Then  the  death,  on  the  1  ith  of  April,  1  5  12,  in  the 
moment  of  victory,  of  his  sister's  son,  his  much- 
loved  nephew,  Gaston  de  Foix,  the  young  hero  of 
Ravenna,  was  a  great  affliction  to  the  king,  soon 
to  be  followed  by  a  still  keener  sorrow,  —  the  pre- 
mature death  of  the  queen. 

Scarcely  had  her  funeral  taken  place  when,  as 
mentioned  above,  new  nuptials  were  proposed  to 
the  royal  widower ;  while  at  the  same  time  the 
States  General  earnestly  appealed  to  him  to  fulfil 
the  promise  he  had  given  to  the  nation  in  1506. 

At  the  risk  of  a  war  with  Austria  he  had  then 
yielded  to  the  advice  of  the  cardinal  minister,  and, 


22  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

to  gratify  the  wishes  of  his  people,  betrothed  his 
daughter,  Madame  Claude,  to  Comte  Francis  of 
Angouleme,  the  heir -presumptive  to  his  throne; 
thereby  declaring  —  the  queen's  consent  and  signa- 
ture being  also  required  —  the  contract  of  1500  — 
by  which  Claude,  an  infant  of  a  few  months'  old, 
was  affianced  to  the  Archduke  Charles,  also  a  babe 
in  his  cradle  —  null  and  void.  The  marriage  of 
Claude  and  Francis  was  to  take  place  when  the 
former  had  completed  her  twelfth  year,  —  at  that 
period  considered,  it  would  seem,  a  suitable  age 
for  young  ladies  to  marry. 

Madame  Claude  was  now  half-way  through  her 
fifteenth  year,  and  still  the  marriage  ceremony  had 
not  taken  place,  Anne's  repugnance  to  giving  her 
daughter  to  Francis  causing  the  delay.  She  has 
even  been  accused  of  an  intention  (Louis  in  1506 
being  supposed  to  be  on  his  death-bed)  of  making 
an  effort  to  have  the  Salic  law  abolished  in  favour 
of  her  daughter,  and  to  the  exclusion  of  Francis 
from  the  throne.  It  is,  however,  more  probable 
that  if  Louis  XII.  could  have  changed  the  order 
of  succession,  and  put  Gaston  de  Foix  in  the  place 
of  Francis,  he  would  have  willingly  done  so. 
Neither  he  nor  Anne  were  very  hopeful  that  one 
already  old  in  vice,  though  young  in  years,  would 
be  likely  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  their 
daughter,  or  to  regard  the  welfare  of  his  people  so 
much  as  the  gratification  of  his  own  extravagant 
tastes  and  vicious  pleasures.     "  That  big  fellow," 


THE   ROYAL   NUPTIALS  23 

{ce  gros  garqoii),  Louis  was  in  the  habit  of  exclaim- 
ing, "  will  corrupt  everything  "(gdtera  tout)  —  undo 
all  that  he  had  been  solicitous  to  do  for  the  good 
of  the  people. 

Freed  from  the  influence  of  the  queen,  the 
expectation  was  general  that  the  nuptials  of 
Claude  and  Francis  would  be  no  longer  deferred. 
The  king  responded  to  the  national  wish  by  ap- 
pointing the   11th   of   May  for   their  celebration. 

The  marriage  took  place  at  the  Chateau  of 
St.  Germain  -  en  -  laye  ;  and  the  "  Young  Adven- 
turer "  *  describes  it  as  "the  most  splendid"  — 
he— might—rather  have  said  the  most  singular  — 
"that  had  ever  been  witnessed,  there  being 
present  ten  thousand  men  no  less  richly  dressed 
than  the  king,  or  M.  d'  Angouleme,  the  bride- 
groom." Yet,  for  such  an  occasion,  the  splen- 
dour was  of  a  gloomy  kind,  for  throughout  the 
festivities,  which  lasted  several  weeks,  this  numer- 
ous and  goodly  company  all  wore  deep  mourning, 
"which,"  continues  Fleuranges,  "from  respect  to 
the  late  queen,  was  not  put  off  even  for  the 
marriage -day  by  either  man  or  woman." 

This  mourning  -  wedding  was,  however,  a  popu- 
lar one,  even  in  Brittany  ;  the  Bretons,  "  reserving 
their  ancient  rights  and  privileges,"  preferring 
union  with  France  to  becoming  a  dependency  of 

*  This  sobriquet,  by  which  Fleuranges  —  who  was  a  son  of 
the  Marechal  Robert  cle  la  Marck — was  most  frequently  named, 
he  gave  himself. 


24  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Austria.  But  great  difficulty,  only  overcome  by 
intrigue,  was  made  by  Louis  XII.  to  assigning 
the  immediate  possession  of  the  duchy  to  Francis  ; 
yet  no  hesitation  was  shown  by  the  Bretons  to 
taking  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  their  new  duke 
and  duchess. 

Madame  Claude  had  not  inherited  her  mother's 
beauty,  esprit,  or  self -asserting  character;  she 
was  more  gentle,  if  not  more  amiable,  equally 
pious,  but  far  less  dignified.  Francis  had  no 
affection  for  her ;  but,  as  he  piqued  himself  on 
his  chivalrous  spirit,  he  was  courteous  and  re- 
spectful in  manner,  as  naturally  a  true  chevalier 
would  be  towards  any  lady,  even  should  she  be 
his  wife. 

The  bridal  festivities  were  not  yet  ended  when 
the  proposed  marriage  of  Louis  XII.  with  Eleanor 
of  Austria,  which  was  to  be  the  pledge  and  seal 
of  a  general  peace,  was  suddenly  broken  off. 
"  His  highness  of  England,"  Henry  VIII.,  had 
not  been  consulted  in  the  matter,  and  now  refused 
to  sign  the  truce  which  Ouintana,  the  Spanish 
king's  secretary,  had,  without  orders,  subscribed 
to  in  his  name.  He  was  exceedingly  wroth  at 
the  course  secretly  pursued  by  his  unscrupulous 
father-in-law.  For,  having  joined  the  league 
against  Louis,  Henry  had  nearly  exhausted  the 
full  treasury  left  by  his  parsimonious  father,  in 
equipping  a  large  army,  which  was  to  be  ready  to 
take  the   field  in   the  spring,  and  with  which  he 


THE  BATTLE    OF  THE  SPURS  2$ 

buoyed  himself  up  with  the  hope  that  he  would 
recover  what  it  was  his  good  pleasure  to  call  "  his 
kingdom  of  France."  What  a  disappointment, 
then  !  The  merry  jingle  of  French  marriage-bells 
was  to  silence  the  roar  of  English  cannon  !  His 
highness  would  not  have  it  so. 

But  Leo  X.,  aware  that  in  the  interests  of 
Italy  peace,  by  whatever  means  obtained,  was 
desirable,  secretly  sent  his  clerical  agents  to 
pacify  the  irritated  monarch,  who  at  length  was 
induced  to  assent  to  the  truce.  It  was,  however, 
by  the  successful  manoeuvres  of  diplomacy  that 
Henry  was  soon  to  be  revenged  on  Ferdinand 
for  the  failure  of  his  hopes  in  the  manoeuvres 
of  his  army. 

The  Due  de  Longueville  was  then  in  England. 
He  and  the  Chevalier  Bayard  had  been  taken 
prisoners  on  the  13th  of  April,  15 13,  at  the 
battle  of  Guinegate,  when  an  aristocratic  and 
supposed  invincible  squadron  of  French  cavalry 
was  seized  with  so  terrible  a  panic  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  a  corps  of  English  infantry  that, 
forgetting  their  swords,  they  put  spurs  to  their 
horses  and  fled  in  the  wildest  disorder ;  hence 
this  brilliant  affair  was  called  the  "  Battle  of  the 
Spurs."  Bayard  and  the  duke,  disdaining  to 
follow  their  terror  -  stricken  companions,  became 
prisoners   of  war. 

The  courteous,  pleasing  manners  of  the  duke 
secured    him    the    friendship    and    confidence    of 


26  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

the  English  king,  who  allowed  him,  being  a 
skilful  player,  to  win,  at  the  then  favourite  game 
of  mall,  the  price  of  his  ransom,  fixed  at  200,000 
crowns.  He,  therefore,  relying  on  the  king's 
favour,  ventured  to  propose,  as  the  most  desirable 
means  of  securing  peace,  a  marriage  between  the 
Princess  Mary,  Henry's  youngest  sister,  and 
Louis  XII. 

Wolsey,  being  well  disposed  towards  a  French 
alliance,  entered  readily  into  these  views,  and 
undertook  to  lay  the  matter  before  the  king, 
who  for  his  own  part  raised  no  objection  to  it, 
certain  though  it  was  that  a  union  with  France 
would  not  be  popular  in  England.  Yet  the 
mortification  its  announcement  would  occasion 
Ferdinand  made  it  acceptable  to  Henry.  Mary 
had  been  betrothed  to  the  Archduke  Charles  after 
Louis  had  broken  his  engagement  with  Austria,  to 
whom  another  rebuff  of  the  same  kind  was  now 
offered  by  England.  Charles  wanted  yet  some 
months  of  being  of  age,  so  could  not  claim  his 
bride  himself ;  and  his  grandfather,  the  Emperor 
Maximilian,  refrained  from  claiming  her  for  him. 

Peace  being  a  necessity  for  France,  a  formal 
request  for  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Mary  was 
made  by  the  Due  de  Longueville  in  the  name  of 
the  king.  The  old  nobility,  represented  by  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  opposed  the  match  ;  and  the 
princess  herself,  as  we  learn  from  her  letters  to 
Henry  after  she  became  a  widow,  "  had  no  mind 


THE  ROYAL   BRIDE  2J 

to  it."  *  She  was  a  girl  of  sixteen,  and  deeply  in 
love  with  Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk. 
The  attachment  was  mutual,  and  not  unknown  to 
Henry.  Mary  seems  to  have  been  induced  to 
consent  to  be  sacrificed  to  political  considerations, 
and  to  become  Queen  of  France,  by  a  promise 
that  when  free  she  should  bestow  her  hand  where 
she  pleased.  A  hint  was  doubtless  given  that  her 
freedom  would  probably  not  be  long  deferred. 

After  some  discussion  between  the  ambassadors 
concerning  the  surrender  or  retention  of  Tournay, 
of  which  Henry  in  the  preceding  year  had  taken 
possession,  the  marriage  contract  was  signed  in 
London,  August  the  7th,  15 14,  Mary's  portion 
being  400,000  crowns,  guaranteed  by  Henry.  On 
the  13th,  the  marriage,  by  proxy,  was  solemnized 
at  Greenwich,  the  Due  de  Longueville  repre- 
senting the  king.  This  union  was  considered 
politically  advantageous  to  France,  as  putting  an 
end  to  a  dangerous  war  with  which  the  country 
was  threatened.  "  It  was  also  Wolsey's  first  great 
triumph  in  diplomacy,  sealing  his  supremacy  and 
the  downfall  of  the  old  nobility."  f 

On  the  15th  or  16th  Mary  left  England.  She 
was  conducted  in  great  state  to  Boulogne,  the 
king  awaiting  her  arrival  at  Abbeville.  He  did 
not  leave  Paris  to  meet  his  young  bride  until  the 

*See  "Calendar  of  State  Papers,"  Foreign  Series,  1514-16; 
Brewer's  Introduction,  etc. 
t  Brewer's   Introduction. 


28  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

22d  of  September,  while  she  did  not  reach 
Abbeville  until  the  9th  of  October.  The  journey 
must,  therefore,  have  been  accomplished  in  the 
most  leisurely  manner  possible.  This  may  have 
been  owing  to  the  very  numerous  retinue  accom- 
panying her, —  thirty-six  English  ladies  and  several 
gentlemen,  amongst  whom  was  Brandon,  and  a 
very  large  number  of  attendants.* 

The  marriage  ceremony  again  took  place  on  the 
1  ith,  and  Louis  appears  to  have  been  much  pleased 
with  his  English  bride.  But  her  liveliness  and  the 
freedom  of  her  manners,  it  seems,  were  looked  on 
as  wanting  in  delicacy  by  the  ladies  of  the  staid 
court  of  the  late  queen,  who  now  formed  the 
intimate  circle  of  the  Duchesse  Claude.  After  the 
marriage  there  was  a  grand  supper  at  which  Mary 
was  present,  sitting  beside  the  king  under  a  canopy, 
and  wearing  a  velvet  hat  with  a  diamond  star  and 
plume  of  white  feathers.  It  appears  to  have  been 
very  becoming,  as  she  is  described  as  looking 
exceedingly  pretty,  with  her  fresh,  fair  complexion, 
and  her  long,  bright  auburn  hair  flowing  in  curls 
over  her  shoulders. 

On  the  5th  of  November  she  was  crowned   at 

*  Anne  Boleyn  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  these  ladies.  More 
probably,  as  some  writers  have  supposed,  it  was  her  elder  sister 
Mary;  for,  according  to  the  date,  1507,  most  generally  given  as 
that  of  Anne's  birth,  she  would  have  then  been  but  six  or  seven 
years  of  age.  She  was  in  France  some  years  later.  Her  letters 
to  her  father  at  that  time  are  wonderful  specimens  of  phonetic 
French. 


THE  BRIDE'S  ENTRY  INTO   PARIS  29 

St.  Denis,  the  old  abbey  being  draped  and  deco- 
rated in  very  festive  style  ;  looking  almost  as  grand, 
though  minus  the  solemnity,  as  when,  less  than 
nine  months  before,  it  was  prepared  for  the  ob- 
sequies of  Anne  of  Brittany.  But  Anne  is  now 
temporarily  forgotten  by  her  so  recently  devoted 
Louis.  It  would  have  been  better  to  have  kept  to 
their  violet  court  mourning. 

The  coronation  was  followed  by  a  banquet,  and 
the  banquet  by  a  ball,  though  hitherto  there  had 
been  scarcely  any  dancing  at  court.  The  king, 
inspired  by  the  mirth  and  gaiety  around  him,  did 
his  best  to  forget  his  gout  and  other  infirmities, 
and  be  young  again.  He  was  very  gallant,  and 
evidently  much  pleased,  at  the  admiration  the 
young  queen  excited.  The  bride's  public  entry 
into  Paris  —  a  very  grand  affair  —  took  place  on 
the  6th.  Tapestry  and  banners  were  abundantly 
displayed,  and  a  long  procession  of  halberdiers, 
archers,  Scotch  and  Swiss  guards,  preceded  by 
heralds -at -arms,  announced  the  approach  of  the 
royal  pair  and  the  accompanying  cortege  of  cava- 
liers and  ladies. 

Even  the  old  Palais  des  Tournelles  had  under- 
gone a  brightening  up  for  Mary's  reception,  as  far 
as  regarded  the  interior.  The  open  sewer  running 
immediately  under  the  palace  windows,  rendering 
that  royal  residence  almost  uninhabitable,  was  by 
the  king's  orders  to  have  had  its  course  turned 
during-  his  absence.      The  civic  authorities  looked 


30  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

at  it  and  confessed,  as  before  they  had  often  done, 
that  it  was  a  terrible  nuisance.  But  when  the  bri- 
dal cortege  arrived  the  sluggish,  pestiferous  stream 
still  rolled  on  in  the  same  direction,  as  it  was  des- 
tined to  do  for  yet  many  a  year,  and  yet  many  more 
times  to  generate  the  plague  and  depopulate  Paris. 

But  this  plague  -  spot  interfered  not  then  with 
the  round  of  banquets  and  bridal  festivities  which 
continued  uninterruptedly  for  the  space  of  six 
weeks.  The  weather  was  exceedingly  inclement ; 
but  bonfires,  torches,  and  some  attempt  at  an  illu- 
mination, together  with  the  wild  joy  of  the  people 
at  "  their  father's "  new  marriage  (looked  on,  it 
appears,  as  a  new  lease  of  life  for  him),  served  in 
some  small  degree  to  mitigate  its  rigour. 

No  better  pastime  had  yet  been  devised  for  the 
chivalric  band  of  cavaliers  than  the  ever-recurring 
jousts  and  tournaments  and  combats  a  outrance. 
In  these  encounters  Francis  especially  excelled. 
No  less  so  Charles  de  Bourbon  and  the  Chevalier 
Bayard,  who  both  bore  a  part  in  them  ;  also  Bran- 
don and  other  English  gentlemen  in  Mary's  suite. 
Francis,  seemingly,  was  very  desirous  that  his 
prowess  should  attract  the  notice  of  the  queen,  and 
it  was  commented  upon  as  "  exceedingly  heroic  that 
he  evinced  no  displeasure  at  the  king's  marriage  ; 
no  alarm  at  its  probable  results,  and  the  consequent 
destruction  of  his  hopes  of  succeeding  his  uncle."* 

*  Uncle  after  the  manner  of  Brittany;  that  is,  Francis  was  the 
son  of  Louis's  first  cousin. 


MATERNAL    ANXIETY  3  I 

The  fetes  were,  however,  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
Mary,  sometimes  so  gay,  laughingly  calling  Francis 
"  Monsieur  mon  becm-fils"  was  now  observed  to  be 
frequently  silent  and  sad  ;  for  nothing  escaped  the 
vigilance  of  Louise  of  Savoy.  The  starting  tear, 
the  ill -repressed  sigh,  she  attributed  to  love  for 
her  son,  and  for  the  first  time,  probably,  sought  to 
restrain  the  ardour  of  that  libertine  youth's  assi- 
duities in  his  pursuit  of  any  lady  who  momentarily 
took  his  fancy.  The  depravity  of  her  mind  made 
her  see,  in  the  liaison  she  suspected,  her  son's 
probable  loss  of  the  throne.  She  ventured,  there- 
fore, to  whisper  about  doubts  of  the  young  queen's 
chastity,  and  urged  the  gentlemen  of  honour  in 
attendance  upon  her  to  warn  the  king  of  the  danger 
of  the  intimacy  subsisting  between  his  nephew  and 
his  bride.      But  Louis  gave  no  heed  to  it. 

He  was  beginning  to  feel  the  reaction  conse- 
quent on  a  life  of  fatigue  and  exhaustion,  so  differ- 
ent from  the  regularity  and  quietude  of  that  he 
had  so  long  led  with  his  Bretonne  queen. 

"  Lever  a  six,  diner  a  dix, 
Sonper  a  six,  coucher  a  dix, 
Fait  vivre  Vhomme  dix  fois  dix," 

had  been  the  rule  of  his  life  for  many  years  past. 
Lately,  he  had  not  dined  till  the  now  fashionable 
hour  of  noon  ;  very  often  not  till  one.  Supper 
had  not  been  served  till  eight  or  nine,  and  midnight 
had  sometimes  found  him  concealing  with  smiles 


32  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

the  pains  that  racked  him  while  mingling  with  the 
gay  throng  of  ladies  and  cavaliers  in  the  great  hall 
of  the  Palais  des  Tournelles. 

These  unseasonable  hours  soon  began  to  tell 
rapidly  on  the  health  of  so  confirmed  an  invalid. 
Physicians  had  warned  him,  without  much  avail, 
that  the  gaieties  which  suited  well  the  bride  would 
surely  prove  fatal  to  the  bridegroom.  Yet  much 
was  hoped  from  a  speedy  removal  to  Blois. 

The  English  guests  were  departing.  Mary,  with 
throbbing  heart,  had  taken  the  necessary  formal 
farewell  of  Brandon,  and  the  royal  retinue  was  on 
the  eve  of  quitting  the  pestiferous  capital,  when 
the  king,  already  utterly  prostrated,  was  attacked 
by  dysentery.  The  journey  to  Blois  was  deferred  ; 
but  all  hope  that  he  would  rally  was  soon  at  an 
end.  A  day  or  two  he  languished,  quietly  passing 
away  at  near  midnight  on  the  ist  of  January, 
1 5  1 5  ;  with  his  last  breath  requesting  to  be  laid  in 
the  same  tomb  with  his  beloved  Anne.* 

Never  was  any  king  of  France  so  deeply  mourned 
as  Louis  XII.     When,  as  was  the  custom  of  the 

*  A  very  splendid  monument  covered  the  remains  of  Louis 
XII.  and  his  queen.  It  was  the  work  of  Florentine  sculptors 
(the  Justas  or  Giusti;  of  whom  there  were  three,  either  brothers 
or  father  and  sons).  Four  years,  however,  had  elapsed  from  the 
death  of  Louis  ere  the  tomb  was  begun,  and  it  was  not  completed 
until  1532  —  so  many  times  had  its  progress  been  suspended, 
owing  to  neglect,  or  inability  to  make  the  stipulated  payments  to 
the  artists,  and  to  the  difficulty  of  supplying  them  even  with  the 
necessary  materials  for  their  work.    The  cost  was  400,000  francs. 


LES  ENFANTS  SANS  SOUCI  S3 

time,  the  "death-bell  ringers"  (clocJicteurs  dcs  tre- 
f  asses)  passed  through  the  streets  of  Paris,  loudly 
ringing  their  bells  and  mournfully  announcing, 
"The  good  King  Louis,  father  of  the  people,  is 
dead ! "  there  was  lamentation  and  weeping  in 
every  household  in  the  city.  As  the  doleful  news 
spread,  cries  of  heartfelt  woe  arose  throughout  the 
kingdom,  and  many  bitter  tears  were  shed  for  the 
loss  of  the  people's  sympathetic  father  and  friend. 
He  alone  of  their  kings,  since  the  time  of  the 
saintly  Louis  IX.  (to  whom  he  has  been  sometimes 
likened),  had  taken  any  interest  in  them,  or  evinced 
any  real  desire  to  promote  their  welfare. 

On  coming  to  the  throne,  Louis  generously  over- 
looked the  conduct  of  those  who,  in  the  preceding 
reign  and  under  the  regency  of  Anne  de  Beaujeu, 
had  shown  themselves  inimical  to  him.  They  had 
looked  for  banishment,  imprisonment  or  other 
marks  of  his  disfavour.  But,  on  the  contrary,  he 
commended  their  fidelity  to  their  sovereign,  bade 
them  retain  their  posts,  and  serve  him  with  like 
zeal.  Many  much -needed  judicial  reforms  were 
introduced  by  Louis  XII.,  many  abuses  abolished, 
and  the  burdensome  taxation  imposed  by  his  pred- 
ecessor was  reduced  by  nearly  a  third. 

The  king's  frugal  habits  and  thrifty  manage- 
ment of  the  state's  finances  were  attributed  by  the 
younger  nobility  to  parsimony  and  avarice,  and 
were  the  subject  of  frequent  jests  among  them. 
They  were  even   broadly  alluded  to  in  one  of  the 


34  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

satirical  performances  termed  "farces,  soties  et 
moralites"  of  the  clerks  of  the  Basoche,  who,  under 
the  title  of  "  Enfants  sans  souci,"  formed  them- 
selves into  a  sort  of  dramatic  company,  and  thus 
became  the  originators  of  French  comedy.  Louis 
was  represented  in  one  of  their  "soties"  (or 
farees)  drinking  with  much  relish  a  bumper  of 
liquid  gold.  When  informed  of  their  audacity,  the 
king  merely  replied,  "  Let  them  jest  as  much  as 
they  please,  so  that  they  presume  not  to  refer  to 
the  queen  "  (which  once  they  had  done)  "or  forget 
what  is  due  to  the  honour  of  ladies." 

France  was  very  prosperous  under  Louis  XII. 
All  classes  had  improved  in  their  circumstances. 
Much  land  was  brought  into  cultivation,  and  com- 
merce became  greatly  extended.  The  king  had, 
therefore,  the  real  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  result 
of  the  economy  and  order  he  had  introduced  into 
the  routine  of  government,  in  the  increased  com- 
fort of  his  people  and  general  prosperity  of  his 
kingdom. 

Lcs  beaux  arts  also  flourished  —  the  impulse 
given  to  their  revival  in  France  being  due  to  Louis 
XII.  and  his  great  minister,  Cardinal  Georges 
d'Amboise,  "  to  whose  ministry  belongs  one  of  the 
most  glorious  periods  of  French  art  which  has  too 
long  been  absorbed  in  the  reign  of  Francis  I."  * 

"Louis  XII.,"  says  M.  Michelet,  "was  himself 
probably  one  of  the  people.  He  had  not  the  soul 
*  Henri  Martin,  "  Histoire  de  France.'1'' 


Louis  XII. 

Photo-etching  from  painting  by  Ad.   Brune. 


LOUIS'S  SEVERITY  IN  ITALY  35 

of  a  king."  Whether  this  insinuation  be  well 
founded  or  not,  he  made,  notwithstanding,  a  very 
good  king.  Seissel,  a  contemporary  writer,  Roe- 
derer,  and  others  of  later  date  who  have  written  of 
him,  are  of  opinion  that  France  never  had  a  better 
ruler,  or  the  French  more  true  liberty,  than  during 
the  reign  of  Louis  XII.  His  chief  failing  seems  to 
have  been  excessive  severity  towards  the  Italians, 
in  the  conduct  of  the  war  he  unceasingly  made  on 
their  country,  for  the  purpose  of  enforcing  his 
very  vague  claims  on  Milan  and  Naples,  —  severity 
strongly  contrasting  with  his  solicitude  for  the 
happiness  and  well-being  of  his  own  subjects,  and 
the  lenient,  even  indulgent,  spirit  he  ever  exhibited 
in  all  his  relations  towards  them. 


CHAPTER   III. 

The  Type  of  a  New  Generation. — -Seeking  Fortune's  Favours. 

—  Reward  of  Loyal  Devotion.  —  Francis  of  Angouleme. — 
The  New  Court.  —  The  Special  Embassy. —  Loving  Inqui- 
ries. —  The  King's  Public  Entry. —  The  Hero  of  the  Fete. — 
The  Great  Officers  of  the  Crown. —  The  Widowed  Queen. 

—  The  Ladies,  Litters,  and  Mules. —  The  Loves  of  Mary  and 
Brandon.  —  Francis  Discomfited.  —  Mary's  Letter  to  Her 
Brother.- — The  Devil's  "Puissance."  —  Marriage  of  Mary 
and  Brandon.  —  The  Crown  Jewels. 

HE  nervous  fears  of  Louise  of  Savoy 
being  effectually  set  at  rest,  Francis  of 
Angouleme  was  proclaimed  king  ;  and, 
while  the  bourgeoisie  of  Paris  and  the  mass  of  the 
people  were  still  deploring  the  death  of  "  le  bon 
roi  Louis  Douce,"  the  young  nobles  thronged  to 
the  court  of  Francis  I.,  hailing  his  accession  with 
exultant  joy  as  the  type  of  a  new  generation. 

They  were  weary  of  Louis  and  his  economy,  of 
prosperity  that  simply  meant  the  welfare  of  the 
nation  ;  not,  as  they  understood  it,  the  lavishing 
of  the  state's  finances  on  court  favourites,  or  the 
creation  of  superfluous  posts  in  the  government, 
to  enable  them  to  lavish  them  themselves.  It  was, 
however,  a  select  few  only  ;  the  gay,  the  gallant, 
and   especially  those  of  the  chivalric  band  —  the 

36 


SEEKING   FORTUNE'S  FAVOURS  $7 

young  king's  companions  —  on  whom  nature,  with 
liberal  hand,  had  bestowed  personal  graces,  who 
looked  hopefully  forward  to  share  in  the  ensuing 
redistribution  of  place,  power,  and  wealth. 

Many  of  the  provincial  nobility  also  would,  at 
this  crisis,  have  willingly  sought  fortune's  favours 
at  court.  But  the  distance  of  their  small  domains 
from  the  capital,  and,  greater  hindrance  still, 
restricted  means,  forbade  them  to  incur  the  great 
expense  of  living  there,  or  even  of  travelling  — 
which  on  such  grand  occasions  was  imperative 
—  in  a  manner  suited  to  their  rank  and  according 
to  the  fashion  of  the  time.  This  was  with  a 
numerous  retinue,  a  train  of  servants,  a  goodly 
number  of  horses  and  mules,  and  a  superabun- 
dance of  litters.  These  last  were  certainly  useful, 
as  they  might,  covered  or  otherwise,  be  turned  to 
account,  en  route,  as  sleeping  -  cots,  when  other 
accommodation  failed. 

Rarely  at  any  greater  speed  than  a  foot-pace 
could  such  a  company  of  travellers  advance  on  their 
journey  ;  for  no  roads  were  made  in  those  days, 
except  the  two  or  three  that  led  to  the  royal 
hunting  -  seats,  and  even  they  were  kept  up  but 
indifferently. 

Great  expectations,  however,  were  then  fostered 
by  all  who  claimed  to  be  noble,  whether  wealthy 
or  poor.  This  was  owing  to  the  young  monarch's 
reputation  for  chivalrous  feeling  and  sympathy  of 
sentiment  with  them,  as  well  as  from  the  open- 


38  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

handed  generosity  ascribed  to  him,  so  strikingly 
contrasting  with  the  niggardly  penuriousness  attrib- 
uted by  the  nobility  to  the  "  Father  of  the  people." 
The  idea,  therefore,  that  a  display  of  loyal  devo- 
tion towards  him  might  be  more  or  less  substan- 
tially rewarded,  is  said  to  have  led  more  than  one 
needy  noble,  whose  rank  did  not  exact  such  ser- 
vice of  him,  to  attend  the  sovereign  at  his  coro- 
nation, arrayed  with  befitting  splendour.  Vain 
attempt  indeed,  it  proved,  to  attract  either  the 
notice  or  favour  of  the  new  court  —  for  only  dis- 
appointment or,  too  often,  ruin  followed. 

But  from  all  parts  of  France,  from  one  motive 
or  another,  people  were  making  their  way,  as  best 
they  could,  to  the  capital.  Unwonted  bustle  and 
stir,  therefore,  prevailed  in  the  good  old  city  of 
Paris  ;  its  muddy,  pestiferous,  dark  and  abominably 
crooked  ins  and  outs  called  streets  being  thronged 
with  the  grave  and  the  gay,  —  mourners,  arriving 
for  the  burying  of  the  old  king,  and  revellers  to 
take  part  in  the  festive  doings  to  follow  the  crown- 
ing of  the  young  one. 

The  successor  of  Louis  XII.  was  but  in  his 
twenty-first  year,  but  in  appearance  and  habits  of 
life  several  years  older.  He  was  born  at  Cognac, 
on  the  1 2th  of  September,  1494,  and  was  the  son 
of  Charles  d'  Orleans,  Comte  d'  Angouleme,  a  man 
of  fragile,  puny  physique,  and  feeble  health,  very 
unlike  his  robust  son  ;  or,  as  some  said,  his  reputed 
son,  two  years  after  whose  birth  he  died.     There 


THE  NEW  COURT  39 

was  very  slight  prospect,  indeed,  at  that  time,  that 
Francis  would  be  called  on  to  ascend  the  throne. 
A  young  king  of  twenty -four  then  reigned,  and 
two  sons  had  been  born  to  him  —  the  dauphin 
being  then  in  his  second  year.  If,  unlikely  though 
it  seemed,  there  should  eventually  be  a  failure  of 
male  issue,  still  the  first  prince  of  the  blood,  Louis  i 
d'  Orleans  —  then  in  the  prime  of  manhood  — 
stood  between  Francis  and  the  throne. 

Gradually  the  pathway  to  it  was  opened  before 
him  ;  first,  by  the  death  of  Charles's  two  sons, 
and  a  few  years  later  by  the  fatal  accident  to 
Charles  himself.  After  the  accession  of  Louis 
XII.  and  his  marriage  with  Charles's  young  widow, 
Madame  Claude  came  into  the  world  instead  of 
the  much -desired  heir.  This  was  a  vexation  to 
the  parents,  but  an  immense  satisfaction  to  Louise 
of  Savoy,  who,  with  her  son  and  her  daughter 
Marguerite  (two  years  the  senior  of  Francis),  was 
residing,  by  order  of  the  king  —  which  was  almost 
equivalent  to  banishment  —  at  her  chateau  of 
Cognac,  or  that  of  Romorantin.  The  levity  of 
her  conduct  was  so  offensive  to  Anne  of  Brittany, 
that  she  would  not  receive  her  at  her  court. 

Some  writers  say  that  between  1499  and  15  10, 
when  Mesdames  Claude  and  Renee  were  born, 
Anne  gave  birth  to  two  sons,  who  died  in  their 
infancy  ;  but  whether  or  not,  two  daughters  alone 
survived  Louis  and  Anne.  The  elder,  Claude, 
was  now  queen,  and  Renee,  just  entering  her  fifth 


40  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

year,  was  residing  at  her  sister's  court  with  her 
governess,  Madame  d'Aumont.  This  lady  had 
formerly  been  one  of  Anne  of  Brittany's  fillcs 
d'honneur,  a  title  about  to  become  one  of  great 
distinction,  significative  of  the  difference  of  con- 
duct and  sentiments  that  prevailed  in  the  court  of 
the  late  queen,  and  the  tone  and  manners  of  that 
over  which  Louise  of  Savoy,  with  her  dames  dc 
dcsJioiincur,  was  about  to  reign  supreme. 

Few  of  the  sovereigns  of  France  have  been 
much  regretted  by  the  people.  In  more  than  one 
instance,  in  order  to  avoid  insult  to  their  remains, 
they  have  been  carried  to  their  tombs  almost 
secretly,  and  without  any  outward  show  of  respect. 
But  for  a  monarch  so  beloved  and  lamented  as  was 
Louis  XII.,  the  scanty  cortige  that  accompanied  the 
body  to  St.  Denis  fell  short,  it  would  seem,  of  the 
honour  considered  to  be  justly  due  to  him.  Per- 
haps the  best  tribute  to  his  worth  was  in  the 
regrets  and  tears  of  the  voluntary  procession  of 
mourners  that  followed  the  official  one.  But  Fran- 
cis was  in  haste  to  be  crowned.  He  was  athirst 
for  military  glory  ;  and  if  the  funeral  cortege  of  the 
late  king  was  somewhat  shorn  of  its  due  splen- 
dour, so  was  the  customary  pomp  of  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  coronation  at  Rheims. 

Usually  they  occupied  many  months,  and  during 
that  interval  the  court  and  the  people  mourned, 
outwardly,  at  least,  for  their  departed  ruler.  But 
so  eager  was  Francis  to  bring  these  ceremonies  to 


THE  SPECIAL   EMBASSY  4 1 

an  end,  that  when,  in  less  than  a  month  (27th  of 
January)  after  Louis's  death,  a  special  embassy 
to  compliment  him  on  his  accession  arrived  at 
Senlis  from  London — -having  "travelled,"  it  was 
said,  "with  the  speed  of  the  wind,"  as  it  probably 
sped  in  those  days  —  "  the  king,"  as  the  ambas- 
sador informed  his  sovereign,  Henry  VIII.,  "had 
gone  to  Rheims  for  his  sacring ; "  and  for  his 
"  sacring  "  only,  it  appeared. 

For,  contrary  to  all  precedent,  the  full  ceremony 
did  not  take  place  at  Rheims.  He  was  anointed 
there  only ;  and  that,  probably,  because  the  sainte 
ampoule  containing  the  miraculous  holy  oil  sent 
from  heaven  for  the  consecration  of  the  French 
kings  could  not  be  removed  from  the  Cathedral  of 
St.  Remi.  Singular  innovation  also,  which  none 
of  his  successors  adopted,  the  ceremony  was  per- 
formed at  night,  on  the  25th.  On  the  following 
day  Francis  set  off  for  St.  Denis,  —  where,  hith- 
erto, only  the  queens  of  France  had  been  crowned, 
—  to  complete,  apparently  with  little  eclat,  his  own 
coronation.  The  ceremony  ended,  he  journeyed  to 
Noyon,  having  announced  that  he  would  there 
receive  the  English  deputation,  on  Candlemas  eve. 
Consequently,  the  gentlemen  composing  it,  the 
Duke  of  Suffolk  being  the  head,  repaired  to  that 
town,  and  were  "  very  graciously  greeted  and 
heartily  welcomed  by  the  king."  He  even  lis- 
tened with  exemplary  patience  to  a  long  Latin 
harangue  spoken  by  the  Bishop  of   Ely,  but  gave 


42  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

no  direct  reply  to  it,  for  which  omission  there  was 
probably  a  sufficient  reason.  But  his  majesty 
"  made  many  inquiries,  most  lovingly,"  and  in 
French,  of  course,  "  after  the  health  of  King  Henry 
and  Queen  Katharine." 

With  reference  to  the  young  dowager,  Queen 
Mary,  Francis  remarked  "  he  had  hoped  that  the 
marriage  of  that  princess  with  the  late  king,  which 
he  had  greatly  promoted,  would  have  been  of  long 
endurance  ;  and  he  trusted  she  would  write  to  her 
brother  of  how  lovingly  he  had  behaved  to  her  ; 
of  how  he  had  done  her  no  wrong,  and  would 
suffer  her  to  take  wrong  of  no  other,  but  would 
be  unto  her  as  a  loving  son  to  his  mother."  But 
Brandon,  already,  was  charged  by  Henry  to  thank 
Francis  for  "  the  singular  comfort  he  had  given 
Mary  in  her  affliction."  Having  done  so,  he  and 
the  rest  of  the  embassy  took  leave  of  the  king  and 
departed  for  Paris,  to  witness  the  public  entry  of 
Francis  into  his  capital,  which  event  was  fixed  for 
the  13th  of  February. 

This  public  entry  was  a  brilliant  spectacle.  Old 
Parisians  remembered  nothing  to  compare  with  it 
since  the  bringing  home  of  the  Bretonne  bride, 
with  its  vestiges  of  mediaeval  customs,  twenty- 
three  years  gone  by.  But  even  the  grand  pageant 
which  celebrated  that  event  (a  truly  important  one 
for  France ;  the  tour  de  force  of  "  La  grande 
Madame,"  the  daughter  of  Louis  XI.)  may  have 
owed  at  this  period  much  of  its  vaunted  splendour 


THE   HERO    OF   THE   FETE  43 

to  that  misty  veil  which  distance  of  time  and  space 
hangs  over  so  many  events  and  scenes  of  the 
past  ;  leaving  imagination  to  fill  in  with  its  own 
vivid  colouring  all  that  during  the  lapse  of  years 
has  become  blurred  and  indistinct. 

Now,  as  then,  damask  and  tapestry  made  grand 
and  gay  the  mean  lath  and  plaster  houses.  The 
king's  musicians  —  on  this  occasion  habited  in 
white  velvet  —  preceded  the  monarch,  probably 
not  discoursing  very  excellent  music,  yet  vigor- 
ously playing  on  their  "  sambucas,  hautbois,  and 
trumpets  "  some  inspiring  equivalent  to  the  modern 
"  See  the  Conquering  Hero  Comes  ;  "  a  little  dis- 
cordantly, perhaps,  for  music  had  not  yet  crossed 
the  Alps,  and  as  an  art  in  France  was  then  far 
away  in  the  background. 

It  was,  however,  the  hero  of  the  fete  whom  all 
most  desired  to  see,  —  from  the  groups  of  great 
ladies  who  filled  the  windows  of  the  houses  and 
public  buildings,  to  women  and  men  of  lower 
degree,  even  to  the  canaille.  These  last,  like  the 
rest  of  the  Parisian  world,  appeared  on  the  scene 
in  full  force ;  they  crowded  the  doorways  and 
entrances,  and,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  pro- 
vost's archers  to  dislodge  them,  took  possession 
of  every  niche,  every  projection  that  afforded  the 
most  risky  foothold  ;  even  hazarding  life  and  limb 
from  the  kicks  of  restive,  prancing,  curveting  horses, 
for  but  the  bare  chance  of  a  glimpse  of  the  new  king 
and  the  brilliant  cavaliers  who  formed  his  corte'ere. 


44  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

No  traces  of  mourning  were  visible.  The  king's 
dress  was  composed  entirely  of  white  satin  and 
silver  damask.  Over  it  he  wore  a  mantle  of  silver 
cloth  bordered  with  a  deep  silver  fringe.  His 
toque  also  was  of  white  velvet,  ornamented  with 
precious  stones  and  a  plume  of  white  feathers. 
His  horse's  mane  was  interlaced  with  silver  cord, 
and  both  bit  and  bridle  were  of  silver,  elaborately 
engraved.  The  damask  housing  was  covered  with 
silver  lozenge -shaped  spots,  each  bearing  a  device 
in  low  relief.  Thus  brilliantly  arrayed,  the  young 
king  of  the  Renaissance  no  doubt  looked  remark- 
ably well,  sitting  his  horse  with  much  grace  — 
horsemanship  being  an  accomplishment  in  which 
all  the  young  nobles  of  that  day  excelled.  The 
master  of  the  horse  {grand  ecuyer)  was  similarly 
attired  in  white  and  silver. 

Other  great  officers  of  the  crown  wore  sump- 
tuous dresses  of  satin  damask  and  cloth  of  gold, 
profusely  ornamented  with  jewels.  Perhaps  the 
most  splendid  of  these  costumes  was  that  worn  by 
the  grand  chamberlain  of  France,  Louis  d' Orleans, 
Due  de  Longueville.  It  was  of  crimson  satin 
interwoven  with  gold.  On  either  side  of  the  tunic, 
in  gold  embroidery,  was  an  eagle  looking  at  the 
sun  and  preparing  to  wing  his  flight  towards  it. 
The  duke's  cap,  or  toque,  was  of  black  velvet.  In 
front  of  it  were  three  rubies  of  remarkable  size 
and  fine  colour,  and  between  them  was  placed  the 
great  diamond  of  the  House  of  Dunois,  cut  as  a 


THE    WIDOWED    QUEEN  45 

brilliant.  Besides  these,  arranged  in  a  square, 
were  some  smaller  diamonds,  and  in  the  centre, 
and  at  each  angle,  a  pear-shaped  pearl  of  rare  size 
and  great  price.* 

When  the  king,  with  his  great  officers  of  state 
and  the  rest  of  the  brilliant  throng  who  made  up 
this  dazzling  show,  had  all  passed  by,  "  Suffolk  and 
others  remained,"  writes  Gattinara,  the  Venetian 
envoy,  "  to  see  the  queen  (Mary)  return  to  the 
palace  after  she  and  other  ladies  had  witnessed  the 
king's  entry  from  the  windows  of  a  neighbouring 
dwelling.  It  was  remarked  that  Mary  also  had 
cast  off  her  mourning,  and  that  her  litter  was  pre- 
ceded by  twenty  of  the  Duke  of  Suffolk's  servants 
on  horseback,  all  clad  in  gray  damask,  with  the 
servants  of  the  other  envoys  similarly  clad  and 
mounted.  Madame  d'  Angouleme  "  (Louise  of 
Savoy)  "  was  with  her,  and  little  Madame  Renee 
and  two  other  children  in  another  litter."  Fran- 
cis's youthful  and  amiable  queen,  Madame  Claude, 
seems  not  to  have  been  present  ;  no  mention  is 
made  of  her.  She  was  not  crowned  until  two 
years  later,  after  Francis  returned  from  Italy. f 

"  In  a  third  litter  were  old  Madame  de  Bour- 
bon "  (daughter  of  Louis  XI.)  "and young  Madame 

*  This  was  not  the  Due  de  Longueville  to  whom  the  idea 
of  the  marriage  of  Louis  XII.  and  Mary  of  England  had  firs 
occurred.  He  appears  to  have  died  very  soon  after  his  return  to 
France.  The  office  of  grand  chamberlain  being  hereditary,  his 
son  or  nearest  relative  would  succeed  him. 

t  "  Le  Bottrgcois  de  Paris,''''  1517. 


46  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

d' Alencon  "  (Marguerite  d' Angouleme.)  Fifty  other 
litters  followed,  each  containing  two  ladies.  Then 
came  ambling  along  twenty-four  Jiaqucnees  (mules), 
each  led  by  a  servant  and  ridden  by  a  lady.  The 
first  fourteen  of  these  venturesome  ladies  were 
magnificently  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold  ;  the  rest 
were  attired  in  satin  damask  and  various  rich 
materials.*  Of  pearls  and  diamonds  they  made 
also  a  great  display,  and,  generally,  the  recently 
introduced  white  Italian  gloves  were  worn,  embroid- 
ered and  fringed  with  gold  or  silver.  A  company 
of  the  king's  archers,  carrying  lances  and  doing 
duty  as  escort  to  this  long  array  of  ladies,  litters, 
and  mules,  closed  the  procession,  and  a  grand  state 
banquet  concluded  the  day's  proceedings.  Six 
weeks  of  festivity  followed,  with  much  dining, 
supping,  and  dancing,  jousts  (in  one  of  which  con- 
flicts the  Count  of  St.  Aubin  was  killed),  tiltings, 
tournaments,  and  flirtations. 

During  this  interval  devoted  to  pleasure,  the 
little  romantic  episode  of  the  loves  of  Mary  and 
Brandon  seemed  menaced  with  a  result  unfavour- 
able to  the  lovers.  Mary  had  written  to  her 
brother  "  thanking  his  grace  for  sending  Brandon 
to  comfort  her  in  her  heaviness."  It  does  not 
appear  that  the  death  of  Louis  XII.  was  any  great 
affliction  to  her.  Her  sadness  or  "  heaviness  "  arose 
from    the  young    king's   importunate   attentions, 

*"  State  Papers  and  Letters,"  Foreign  Series,  151 5;  also 
Brewer's  Introduction  to  same. 


THE   LOVES    OF  MARY  AND    BRANDON     47 

"which,"  as  she  said,  "were  not  to  her  honour;" 
and  she  was  further  distressed  by  the  arrival  of 
ambassadors  with  proposals  of  marriage  from  sev- 
eral of  the  princes  of  Europe.  That  of  the  Duke 
of  Savoy,  the  king's  uncle,  was  favoured  by  the 
French  court,  and  much  urged  on  her  by  Louise 
of  Savoy,  the  duke's  sister,  as  well  as  formally 
made  to  King  Henry. 

As  Francis,  notwithstanding,  continued  to  press 
his  "singular  comfort"  on  Mary,  she  determined 
to  free  herself  from  his  importunities,  "  of  which 
she  was  so  weary,  as  well  as  so  af eared  that  he 
would  try  to  ruin  her  lover."  As  she  informs 
Brandon,  she  said  to  the  king,  "  Sire,  I  beseech 
you  will  let  me  alone,  and  speak  no  more  to  me 
of  such  matters  ;  and  if  you  will  promise  me  by 
your  faith  and  troth,  and,  as  you  are  a  true  prince, 
that  you  will  keep  it  counsel  and  help  me,  I  will 
tell  you  all  my  own  mind."  Of  course  he  prom- 
ised. Mary  then  confessed  her  love  for  Brandon, 
and  her  engagement  to  him  ;  begging  also  "  the 
king's  pity  and  help  to  mitigate  her  brother's 
displeasure."  * 

Francis,  though  evidently  no  less  astonished 
than  annoyed  by  a  confession  which  showed  him, 
what  he  probably  never  before  suspected,  that 
another  might  be  preferred  before  him,  neverthe- 
less graciously  promised  his  good  offices  in  the 
matter.     There  would  seem,  however,  to  have  been 

*  Foreign  Series  of  "State  Papers  and  Letters,"  1515. 


48  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

no  need  for  them.  An  understanding  existed 
between  Mary  and  her  brother  that  she  should 
please  herself  in  her  second  nuptials.  Suffolk 
was  one  of  his  chief  favourites.  Wolsey,  too,  was 
friendly  to  the  lovers.  Mary  must  have  feared 
that  some  political  motive  might  induce  Henry  to 
fail  in  his  word  to  her,  and  for  this  reason  to  give 
his  sanction  only  to  a  royal  marriage. 

As  for  Francis,  much  discomfited  at  being  so 
firmly  repulsed,  he  "  went  immediately  to  his  bed- 
chamber and  sent  for  Brandon,  to  whom,  on 
entering,  he  said  abruptly : 

"My  Lord  of  Suffolk,  there  is  a  bruit  in  this 
realm  that  you  have  come  hither  to  marry  the 
queen,  your  master's  sister." 

Taken  by  surprise,  Brandon  could  only  reply 
that  "  his  master  had  sent  him  to  comfort  his 
sister."  But  the  king  informed  him  that  the 
queen  had  confessed  to  him  their  mutual  attach- 
ment, and  that  he  proposed,  by  interceding  with 
Henry,  to  aid  in  securing  the  object  of  their 
wishes.  But  this  English  Queen  Mary  of  France 
seems  to  have  had  as  much  tenacity  of  will  as 
Henry  himself;  and  to  have  been  as  determined 
to  marry  Brandon,  in  spite  of  her  brother,  as  he, 
some  years  later,  was  determined  to  marry  Anne 
Boleyn,  in  spite  of  the  Pope. 

Accordingly,  Mary,  not  relying  on  Francis's 
intercession,  writes  to  her  brother,  reminding  him 
that,  "  having  once  sacrificed  herself  for  his  pleas- 


THE   DEVIL'S  "PUISSANCE"  49 

ure,  she  hopes  now  to  be  suffered  to  do  what  she 
list.  His  grace  knoweth  where  she  proposeth  to 
marry,  and  further  knowing  there  are  numerous 
suitors  for  her  hand,  and  projects  to  bestow  it  on 
this  prince  and  on  that,  if  his  grace  will  have  her 
married  in  any  place  but  where  her  mind  is,  she 
will  be  there  where  his  grace  nor  none  other  shall 
have  any  joy  of  her  ;  for  she  doth  promise  his 
grace  that  he  shall  hear  that  she  will  be  in  some 
religious  house,  which  she  thinks  his  grace  would 
be  very  sorry  of,  and  his  realm  also.  She  knows," 
she  continues,  "that  Suffolk  hath  many  hinderers 
about  his  grace." 

Suffolk's  opponents  are  said  to  have  made  the 
most  strenuous  efforts  to  prevent  his  marriage 
with  Mary.  One  of  their  devices  was  to  send  a 
priest  named  Langley,  to  alarm  her  by  an  absurd 
tale  of  "  both  Brandon  and  Wolsey  having  deal- 
ings with  the  devil;  and,  by  the  puissance  of  the 
said  devil,  keeping  Henry  VIII.  subject  to  their 
will.  By  Suffolk's  devilish  arts,  Langley  told  her, 
a  disease  in  Compton's  leg  was  caused."  But 
Mary  was  stanch,  and  the  result  of  the  story  of 
Brandon  and  the  devil's  "  puissance,"  together  with 
a  renewal  of  the  king's  offensive  attentions,  was 
her  secret  marriage  with  Brandon. 

Fleuranges  —  with  whom  Francis  was  on  more 
familiar  terms  than  with  many  of  his  favourites  — 
says,  in  his  memoirs,  that  "the  king  was  very 
indignant    and    much    vexed    on    hearing    of  this 


50  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

secret  marriage ;  Brandon  having  given  him  his 
word  that  he  would  do  nothing  dishonourable. 
But  Brandon  pleaded  the  ardour  of  his  love  for 
Mary."  Whether  this  in  any  way  appeased  the 
anger  of  the  indignant  monarch,  Fleuranges  does 
not  inform  us ;  yet  neither  he  nor  Francis  appears 
to  have  seen  any  dishonour  attaching  to  the  latter 
in  his  persistent  persecution  of  the  young  widowed 
queen,  to  induce  her  to  become  his  mistress. 

It  is  singular,  however,  that  the  testimony  of 
Fleuranges,  which  might  well  be  supposed  trust- 
worthy, as  regards  the  king's  indignation  with 
Brandon  on  account  of  the  secret  marriage,  is  not 
confirmed  by  the  documents  relating  to  it  con- 
tained in  the  series  of  "  State  Papers."  So  far 
from  it,  it  would  appear  that  ten  persons  were 
present  at  this  secret  marriage,  and  that  Francis 
was  one  of  them.  Yet  it  is  possible  that  he  was 
not;  but  that  it  was  expedient  it  should  be  so 
represented,  in  order  to  conciliate  Henry,  who, 
though  he  seems  to  have  been  little  adverse  to 
the  match,  might  have  greatly  resented  Brandon's 
presumption  in  marrying  his  sister  without  his 
consent. 

The  presumed  presence  of  Francis  would  give 
a  sort  of  sanction  to  the  dowager  French  queen  to 
dispose  of  her  hand  "where  she  had  a  mind,"  as 
she  had  warned  her  brother  she  would  do.  Yet, 
that  it  was  none  the  less  a  very  serious  matter  for 
Brandon  may  be  inferred  from  Wolsey's  reproach- 


MARRIAGE   OF  MARY  AND  BRANDON        5  I 

ful  words,  that  "  he  had  saved  his  head  from  the 
block,"  when  years  after  Brandon  showed  himself 
less  mindful  than  he  should  have  been  of  his 
former  obligations  to  the  fallen  minister.  Wol- 
sey's  friendly  efforts  on  behalf  of  the  romantic  pair 
enabled  them  fearlessly  to  leave  Paris  for  London 
on  the  15th  of  April  (ten  days  after  the  treaty 
between  Louis  XII.  and  Henry  VIII.  had  been 
ratified  by  Francis  I.),  Mary  being  a  second  time 
a  bride  within  six  months. 

On  the  13th  of  May  they  were  publicly  married 
at  Greenwich  in  the  presence  of  Henry  and  Queen 
Katharine,  Mary  taking  the  title  of  the  duchess- 
queen. 

Unlike  most  love  marriages,  this  was  a  happy 
one.  But  Henry  made  the  lovers  pay  for  their 
happiness  by  the  very  hard  bargains  he  drove  with 
them  respecting  their  property.  They  appear  to 
have  very  readily  complied  with  his  exactions, 
though  Brandon  was  far  from  being  rich.  He 
indeed  complained  some  years  after  of  straitened 
means  from  the  alienation  of  so  large  a  portion  of 
their  income.  Henry  acted  in  this  instance  with 
the  niggardliness  characteristic  of  his  father,  seek- 
ing to  recover  from  France  the  expense  he  had 
incurred  for  Mary's  marriage  to  Louis  XII., 
and  exacting  from  his  sister  a  large  part  of  her 
dowry. 

A  lively  correspondence  ensued  respecting  the 
jewels  given  by  Louis   XII.  to  Mary.     Those  of 


52  THE    COURT   OF  FRANCE 

greatest  value  the  Duchesse  d'Angoul£me  seems 
to  have  taken  a  fancy  to.  They  therefore  were 
claimed  as  part  of  the  crown  jewels  of  France. 
Henry  contended  that  they  were  the  French 
queen's  private  property.  But  only  a  very  few  of 
Louis's  valuable  gifts  to  his  bride  were  allowed  to 
be  retained  by  her.* 

Death  rather  prematurely  parted  Mary  and 
Brandon.  She  died  in  1532,  in  her  thirty-fourth 
or  thirty-fifth  year. 

*  See  "Letters,"  etc.,  Foreign  Series  of  "State  Papers,"  1514 
and  1515-     Also  Brewer's  Introduction  to  same. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

An  Idolising  Mother. — The  King's  Governor.  —  The  Chevalier 
King. —  The  Chancellor  Duprat. —  Charles  de  Bourbon. — 
Admiral  Bonnivet.  —  La  Belle  Francoise  de  Foix.  —  The 
Duke  of  Milan.  —  Schemes  for  Raising  Money.  —  A.  Matri- 
monial Alliance. —  Diplomacy  of  Sixteenth  Century. — The 
Treaty  of  Dijon.  —  Pedro  Navarro.  —  Guillaume  Bude. — 
Madame  Louise  of  Savoy.  —  Shedding  a  Joy  on  Duty. — 
Heart-breaking  Leave-takings.  — The  Chivalry  of  the  Period. 

—  The  Fascinations  of  Lyons. — A    New   Route  over  the 
Alps.  —  Perseverance  and  Success.  —  The  Modern  Hannibal. 

—  Battle  of  Marignan.  — An  Advantageous  Loss.  —  Knight- 
ing the  King. 

RANCIS'S  first  act  of  kingly  power  was 
one  full  of  sinister  foreboding,  both  for 
himself  and  the  nation.  Louise  of 
Savoy,  his  "idolising  mother,"  yet  his  evil  genius, 
was  created  by  him  Duchesse  d'  Angouleme  and 
d'  Anjou  ;  to  which  new  dignity  were  added  exten- 
sive estates  in  Berry.  Besides  this,  such  was 
the  filial  piety  of  the  son  towards  the  indulgent 
parent  who  so  sedulously  pandered  to  his  vices, 
that  he  allowed  her  to  share  with  him  several  of 
the  prerogatives  of  royalty,  thus  admitting  her  at 
once  to  participation  in  the  government  of  the 
country,  —  a  privilege  of  which  she  was  not  slow 
to  avail  herself. 

S3 


54  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  pernicious  influence  of  this  ambitious, 
astute,  and  most  corrupt  woman  was  further  ex- 
hibited in  the  young  monarch's  choice  of  ministers. 
Perhaps  that  of  Artus  de  Gouffier  Boissy,  who  had 
been  his  governor,  and  whom  —  with  Florimond 
Robertet,  Louis  XII. 's  minister  of  finance,  as 
intendant  —  he  promoted  to  the  high  office  of 
grand  master  of  the  household,  may  have  been 
dictated  by  feelings  of  personal  attachment.  For 
it  was  Boissy  who  fostered  in  him  all  those  heroic 
sentiments  attributed  to  the  paladins  of  French 
chivalry ;  and  in  Boissy' s  accomplished  pupil  were 
supposed  to  be  united  the  high-bred  courtesy,  the 
love  of  glory,  the  valour  and  generosity  character- 
istic of  the  redoubtable  Roland  of  Roncevaux, 
and  that  type  of  constant  lovers  and  bravest  of 
knights  errant,  the  Knight  of  the  Lion  —  Amadis 
of  Gaul. 

Of  business  of  state,  of  the  political  situation 
of  France  with  reference  to  the  other  powers  of 
Europe,  of  the  internal  condition  of  the  country, 
or  of  aught  that  was  conducive  to  its  prosperity  or 
the  well  -  being  of  the  people,  Francis  knew  noth- 
ing. Boissy,  it  seems,  had  never  contemplated 
the  probability  of  the  Comte  d'Angouleme  being 
some  day  called  upon  to  govern  France.  He  was, 
indeed,  from  his  own  inexperience  but  little  quali- 
fied—  though  a  man  of  letters  with  a  decided 
taste  for  Ics  beaux  arts  —  profitably  to  direct  his 
pupil's  education  to  that  end.     But  Francis  had 


THE    CHEVALIER   KING  55 

read  with  avidity  the  old  chivalric  romances,  and 
from  them  had  imbibed  certain  notions  of  the 
relative  duties,  as  he  conceived  them,  of  a  cheva- 
lier king  and  the  people  whose  fortunate  lot  it  was 
to  be  born  his  subjects. 

In  all  athletic  sports  and  exercises  Francis  of 
Angouleme  had  borne  off  the  palm.  He  was  dis- 
tinguished by  his  skill  in  the  tournament ;  he 
excelled  in  the  race,  and  his  horsemanship  was 
regarded  as  the  perfection  of  grace  and  daring. 
As  a  wrestler  few  could  compete  with  him,  and  he 
was  a  dexterous  swordsman.  Nor  did  his  accom- 
plishments end  here.  He  was  also  the  glass  of 
fashion,  dressing  sumptuously,  and  regulating,  as 
arbiter  elegantiarum,  the  form  and  colour  of  court 
costume  —  always,  of  course,  with  an  eye  to  the 
especial  setting  off  of  his  own  stalwart  form,  or 
the  concealment  of  its  defects. 

The  elite  of  the  young  nobility  —  an  Olympian 
throng  of  whom  he  was  the  chief  —  took  him  for 
their  model,  and  were  delighted  with  the  prospect 
which  the  new  reign,  with  its  extravagance  and  its 
court  of  gallantry  and  beauty,  opened  before  them. 
Very  eagerly,  therefore,  they  sought  to  bask  in 
the  sunlight  of  the  accomplished  royal  hero's 
favour. 

The  plebeian  part  of  the  nation,  at  first  a  little 
dazzled  also,  rashly  expected  to  find  in  this  bril- 
liant apparition,  this  elegant  creature,  the  like  of 
whom  had    never    before    been    seen,    and    never 


$6  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

was  likely  to  reappear  among  the  race  of  French 
king's, —  in  stature  a  demigod*  or  knight  of  the 
Round  Table,  —  that  a  great  man  had  arisen  to 
govern  France.  But,  alas !  like  all  who  looked 
to  him  for  anything  great,  they  were  doomed  to 
disappointment.! 

The  seals  of  the  important  post  of  chancellor 
were  confided  to  Antoine  Duprat,  the  first  presi- 
dent of  the  Parliament  of  Paris.  Duprat  was  the 
intimate  friend  and  adviser  of  Madame  Louise, 
and  was  a  man  of  considerable  ability,  but  utterly 
unprincipled,  and  of  dissolute  life. 

For  twenty -seven  years  the  sword  of  state  of 
the  Constable  of  France  had  been  rusting  in  its 
scabbard.  Both  Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII. 
had  shrunk  from  bestowing  on  a  subject,  and 
especially  on  a  prince  of  the  blood,  a  dignity 
second   in   influence  only  to   the  monarch's,  and 

*  A  man  of  five  feet  ten  inches,  or  eleven,  at  most,  which  the 
armour  of  Francis  I.  in  the  Louvre  shows  the  height  of  that 
monarch  to  have  been,  was  regarded,  apparently,  as  gigantic  in 
that  age  of  humpbacked,  stunted  growth,  and  deformed  royalty. 
Deformity  was  then  very  general  in  France.  Infants  and  young 
children  were  so  tightly  swathed  and  bound  up  that  their  mus- 
cles became  contracted,  their  limbs  crooked,  and  rarely  did  any 
grow  up  without  some  bodily  defect  more  or  less  developed. 
Francis  may,  therefore,  have  well  been  looked  on  as  a  wonder. 
He  was  moderately  tall  and  straight,  broad  chested,  but  high 
shouldered,  and,  on  the  whole,  by  no  means  so  symmetrical  in 
form,  or  handsome  in  feature,  as  his  flatterers  have  represented 
him. 

t  See  Henri  Martin,  "  Histoire  tie  France." 


CHARLES  DE  BOURBON  $7 

which,  once  conferred,  could  not  be  withdrawn. 
So  absolute,  indeed,  was  his  power,  that  the  mon- 
arch himself  could  give  no  orders  during  a  cam- 
paign, respecting  his  army,  but  through  the  agency 
of  the  constable.  Due  Jean  de  Bourbon,  who  died 
in  1488,  was  the  last  who  held  the  post.  But  the 
constable's  office  was  now  revived,  and  the  sword 
presented  to  the  haughtiest,  wealthiest,  and  most 
powerful  subject  in  the  realm,  —  the  second  prince 
of  the  blood,  the  young,  handsome,  ambitious,  and 
austere  Due  Charles  de  Bourbon. 

He  was  but  four  years  older  than  Francis,  with 
whom  he  was  certainly  no  favourite,  —  his  man- 
ners being  grave  and  dignified,  and  his  aversion 
to  join  in  the  frivolous  pastimes  and  dissipations 
of  the  court  openly  avowed.  He  had  very  early 
displayed  great  military  talent,  and  distinguished 
himself  by  his  bravery  in  the  recent  Italian  wars 
of  Louis  XII.  ;  who  is  said,  in  one  of  the  many 
versions  French  historians  have  given  of  Bour- 
bon's early  career,  to  have  promised  him  the  con- 
stableship  when,  after  a  few  more  years,  he  should 
have  acquired  that  experience  and  maturity  of 
judgment  considered  essential  qualifications  for 
this  responsible  post. 

Francis  was  by  no  means  anxious  to  carry  out 
so  hurriedly,  if  at  all,  in  this  instance,  the  inten- 
tions of  his  predecessor.  But  his  mother  had  long 
been  the  slave  of  an  absorbing  passion  for  this 
young  duke,  who  treated  her  advances  with  cold- 


58  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

est  disdain.  She,  however,  yet  hoped  to  bring 
him  to  her  feet,  by  using  the  influence  she  now 
possessed  for  the  furtherance  of  his  ambitious 
views.  To  her  suggestions,  then,  in  this  as  in 
other  matters,  Francis  dutifully  yielded,  and  to- 
gether with  the  constable's  sword  conferred  on 
Bourbon  the  governorship  of  Languedoc.  Francis 
was,  in  fact,  of  too  indolent  a  character  to  offer 
much  opposition  except  where  his  pleasures  were 
concerned. 

Another  nomination,  more  agreeable  to  Francis 
and  his  courtiers,  but  due  to  good  looks  and  lively 
manners  rather  than  to  ability,  was  that  of  Gouffier 
Boissy's  young  brother,  Bonnivet,  to  the  post  of 
admiral.  Bonnivet  was  considered  the  handsomest 
man,  and  most  accomplished  gentleman,  according 
to  the  notions  of  that  time,  of  the  court  of  Francis 
I., — the  king,  of  course,  excepted.  What  mortal 
could  compare  with  a  demigod  !  And  very  rapidly 
the  admiral  rose  in  his  sovereign's  good  graces, 
and  acquired  a  princely  fortune.  For  Francis  was 
lavish  towards  his  favourites,  and  often  not  only 
overlooked  their  fatal  mistakes  in  their  conduct  of 
his  wars,  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Bonnivet,  —  who, 
if  not  deficient  in  bravery,  was  certainly  not  an 
able  commander,  —  even  rewarded  acts  that  would 
have  entailed  disgrace  on  others. 

The  number  of  the  marshals  of  France  was 
increased  at  this  time  from  three  to  four,  and  the 
appointment   raised    in   dignity.      Henceforth,   the 


LA   BELLE   FRANCOISE  DE  FOIX  59 

marshals  ranked  as  great  officers  of  the  crown, 
holding  their  commissions  for  life,  with  the  further 
honour  of  being  addressed  by  the  king  as  "  mon 
cousin."  But  it  was  the  young  Marechal  de  Foix 
(Lautrec)  whom  Francis,  on  this  occasion,  most 
especially  distinguished,  appointing  him  governor 
of  Guyenne,  and  conferring  on  him  other  marks 
of  confidence  and  good-will. 

The  marshal  was  the  eldest  of  the  three  brothers 
(Lautrec,  Lescun,  and  Lesparre)  of  Francoise  de 
Foix,  the  young  Comtesse  de  Chateaubriand, 
whose  beauty  had  already  attracted  the  notice 
of  the  king,  even  while  bestowing  his  "  singular 
comfort,"  on  Queen  Mary.  It  was  to  find  fa- 
vour, then,  in  the  eyes  of  the  fair  countess  that 
Lautrec,  so  brave  and  daring,  but  so  cruel  in  war, 
was  promoted  to  greater  honour  than  the  rest  of 
the  marshals. 

But  affairs  of  gallantry  did  not  at  this  moment 
so  exclusively  occupy  the  young  king's  attention 
as  to  abate  the  ardour  of  his  desire  to  signalise 
his  accession  to  power  by  some  brilliant  achieve- 
ment that  should  add  to  his  other  perfections  a 
halo  of  military  glory.  From  the  20th  of  January 
an  army  had  been  assembling  at  Lyons,  which, 
from  its  continually  increasing  number,  promised 
to  be  the  largest,  as  well  as  best  equipped,  that 
France  had  yet  in  her  Italian  wars  brought  into 
the  field.  Its  destination  was  the  invasion  of  Italy 
and  the  reconquest  of  Milan,  of  which,  at  his  coro- 


60  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

nation,  Francis  had  taken  the  title  of  duke,  —  an 
announcement  to  the  Italian  states  that  they  were 
not  yet  free  from  the  ravages  of  "les  barbares" 
otherwise  the  French. 

His  claim  to  the  duchy  was  but  the  extremely 
vague  one  acquired  by  his  marriage  with  Madame 
Claude,  and  inherited  by  her  from  her  father.  But 
Francis,  not  satisfied  to  act  in  the  name  of  his 
wife,  required  of  that  young  and  docile  lady  the 
cession  to  him,  personally,  of  all  the  rights  of  the 
House  of  Orleans  to  the  Milanais. 

If  Louis  XII.,  notwithstanding  his  expensive 
wars,  had  incurred  no  debts,  he  had  also  hoarded 
no  money,  and  unexpected  emptiness  of  the  treas- 
ury at  his  death  proved  a  great  check  to  the  young 
king's  martial  views.  His  vast  preparations  for 
recovering  "his  heritage "  were  therefore  some- 
what delayed,  by  the  necessity  of  devising  expedi- 
ents for  obtaining  the  large  sums  he  needed,  as 
well  for  his  pleasure  as  for  the  equipment  of  his 
troops. 

His  chancellor,  Duprat,  was  fertile  in  schemes 
for  raising  money.  But,  as  Francis  was  not  indif- 
ferent to  popularity,  he  shrank  from  the  convenient 
course  of  beginning  his  reign  by  a  large  increase 
of  taxation,  which  would  have  exhibited  so  striking 
a  contrast  to  that  pursued  on  his  accession,  by  the 
people's  lamented  "good  king,  Louis."  He,  there- 
fore, contented  himself  for  the  present  with  some 
trifling    augmentation    of   the   taxes    called    "  les 


A    MATRIMONIAL  ALLIANCE  6l 

tailles"  and  " les  aides ;"  the  contracting  of  large 
loans  and  the  introduction  of  the  practice  of 
creating  and  selling  appointments  in  the  royal 
household  and  places  in  the  judicature,  in  order  to 
obtain  funds. 

Meanwhile,  not  to  awaken  the  jealousy  of  neigh- 
bouring states,  or  by  a  premature  declaration  of 
his  views  to  put  them  on  their  guard,  he  affected 
to  be  anxious  only  to  maintain  friendly  relations 
with  the  European  powers,  and  to  give  stability  to 
the  new  reign.*  Consequently,  he  had  readily 
confirmed  Louis's  treaty  of  peace  with  Henry 
VIII.,  and  in  the  previous  month  (March)  entered 
into  one  with  the  Archduke  Charles  of  Austria. 
This  politic  youth,  Francis's  future  rival,  but  then 
only  Count  of  Flanders,  having  attained  his  major- 
ity (fifteenth  year),  and  with  it  the  sole  govern- 
ment of  the  Netherlands,  sent  his  ambassador, 
Count  Henry  of  Nassau,  to  propose  a  treaty  of 
peace  and  amity  with  France,  and  to  make  a  formal 
demand  for  the  hand  of  the  queen's  sister,  Madame 
Renee  ;  the  marriage  to  be  solemnized  when 
Madame,  who  was  not  yet  five  years  old,  should 
have  completed  her  twelfth  year. 

Many  concessions  and  promises  of  a  political 
nature  were  eventually  agreed  to,  and  every  possible 
guarantee  given  for  securing  in  due  time  the  cele- 
bration of  the  marriage  ;  a  large  pecuniary  for- 
feiture being  stipulated  should  either  party  to  the 

*  J.  Servan,  "Guerresdes  Francois  en  Italic.'1'' 


62  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

treaty  fail  to  carry  out  his  engagements.  The 
"Bourgeois  de  Paris"  (15  15)  informs  us  that  this 
auspicious  event  was  proclaimed  throughout  the 
capital,  and  celebrated  by  Te  Dennis  and  sermons, 
bonfires,  processions,  and  ringing  of  bells ;  also 
jubilee  pardons  and  indulgences  from  the  Pope. 
Charles  was  so  well  pleased  with  his  ambassador's 
conduct  of  the  negotiation  that  he  rewarded  him 
with  a  wealthy  wife,  —  Madame  Claude  de  Chalon, 
heiress  of  Philibert,  Prince  of  Orange. 

This  treaty  was  at  that  moment  favourable  to 
the  French  king's  designs  on  Italy  ;  but  with  refer- 
ence to  the  future,  most  contrary  to  the  interests 
of  France.  This  was  quite  in  accordance  with 
the  system  of  diplomacy  generally  adopted  in 
Europe  in  those  unstable  and  turbulent  times. 
Chicanery  and  deceit  were  its  chief  characteristics. 
If  success  in  immediate  objects  could  be  achieved 
by  onerous  treaty  engagements,  there  was  no  hesi- 
tation in  entering  into  them,  and  none  in  setting 
them  aside  when  they  had  served  their  purpose,  or 
in  trusting  to  the  chapter  of  accidents  to  nullify 
all  it  might  hereafter  be  inconvenient  to  carry  into 
effect. 

Francis,  then,  did  but  follow  the  example  of 
contemporary  sovereigns  when,  solely  with  a  view 
to  the  success  of  his  own  secret  plans,  he  sent 
ambassadors  to  negotiate  alliances  with  the  Vene- 
tians, the  Emperor  Maximilian,  the  Pope,  and 
Ferdinand  of  Spain.      He  would  have  included  the 


THE    TREATY   OF  DIJON  63 

Swiss  cantons  —  whose  inhabitants  then  fought 
the  battles  of  Europe  —  in  this  universal  bond  of 
amity  he  was  apparently  so  desirous  of  effecting. 
But,  at  the  instigation  of  Cardinal  Sion,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  cantons  in  Italy,  and  the  irrecon- 
cilable enemy  of  France,  passports  were  refused 
to  the  French  envoy,  and  the  king  informed  by 
the  Diet,  that,  if  the  unfulfilled  treaty  made  with 
the  Swiss  at  Dijon,  in  15 13,  by  Marechal  de  La 
Tremoille,  in  the  name  of  Louis  XII.,  was  not  fully 
executed,  an  armed  force  would  enter  Burgundy. 

The  conditions  of  this  treaty  were  extremely 
onerous.  It  had  been  made  at  a  critical  moment 
for  France,  without  authority  from  the  king,  who 
was  expected  to  repudiate  it,  which  he  did,  express- 
ing much  dissatisfaction  with  La  Tremoille.  But 
when  better  informed  of  the  state  of  affairs  that 
led  to  it,  he  perceived  and  acknowledged  that  what 
he  had  thought  a  harsh  and  unjustifiable  act  had 
really  been  one  of  necessity,  and  had  saved  his 
kingdom. 

The  demands  of  the  Swiss  Diet,  which  Francis 
bitterly  inveighed  against  and  made  known  to  all 
Europe,  served  him,  however,  as  a  pretext  he  was 
glad  to  avail  himself  of  for  raising  more  money  as 
well  as  troops  in  Burgundy  and  Dauphiny,  and 
still  further  increasing  his  army  for  the  defence,  as 
he  now  gave  out,  of  his  frontiers.  At  this  crisis 
it  was  suggested  to  him  to  offer  liberty  and  the 
command  of  a  detachment  to  the  Biscayan  gen- 


64  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

eral,  Pedro  Navarro,  who,  from  his  great  military 
renown,  would  in  himself  be  almost  worth  an 
army. 

This  experienced  officer,  who  was  skilled  in  all 
the  science  of  war  of  that  epoch,  had  been  taken 
prisoner  at  Ravenna.  In  that  famous  battle 
Navarro  had  played  a  distinguished  part ;  but 
Cardona,  the  Viceroy  of  Naples,  who  fled  with  all 
speed  when  victory  seemed  to  declare  for  the 
French,  accused  him  of  being  the  cause  of  the 
Spanish  defeat.  Consequently,  Ferdinand  refused 
to  pay  the  captive's  ransom,  and  for  nearly  three 
years  Navarro  had  languished,  a  prisoner  of  war 
in  France.  The  offers  of  the  king  were  accepted 
by  him,  after  renouncing  the  fiefs  he  held  of 
Ferdinand  ;  the  allegiance  of  a  Biscayan  to  Spain 
being  so  weak  a  tie  that  soon  after,  with  nearly 
10,000  of  his  countrymen,  Navarro  joined  the 
army  of  Lyons,  now  numbering  60,000  strong. 

It  consisted  of  men  of  all  nations,  even  cavalry 
from  Albania ;  but  what  was  remarkable  on  this 
occasion  was  the  absence  of  the  Swiss,  who  usually 
formed  the  strength  of  all  armies,  even  of  states 
opposed  to  each  other.  The  French  troops  were 
always  few  in  number.  Louis  XII.  had  been  so 
anxious  to  spare  his  own  people  the  hardships  and 
perils  of  warfare,  that  the  boasted  martial  spirit  of 
the  nation  was  believed  to  be  much  subdued,  and 
it  was  scarcely  expected  that  they  should  fight 
their  own  battles. 


GUILLAUME  BUD£  65 

The  old  monarch  of  Spain  was  far  too  astute  to 
be  lulled  into  security  by  the  peaceful  professions 
of  the  young  King  of  France,  and  declined  his 
proposal  to  prolong  the  truce,  then  drawing  to  a 
close,  which  he  had  concluded  with  Louis  XII. 
Having  urged  the  Pope  to  open  his  eyes  to  what 
his  enemy  was  doing,  Ferdinand,  together  with 
the  Emperor  Maximilian  and  the  Duke  of  Milan, 
Maximilian  Sforza,  formed  a  league  with  the  Swiss, 
who  were  to  furnish  a  large  army  in  support  of  it, 
for  the  defence  of  Italy. 

Francis,  being  desirous  of  securing  the  alliance 
of  the  Pope,  Leo  X.,  by  way  of  showing  his 
appreciation  of  the  character  of  his  prelate,  as 
an  enlightened  and  munificent  patron  of  art  and 
letters,  despatched  to  Rome,  as  his  negotiator,  a 
savant  of  high  repute  in  the  Parisian  world  of 
letters.  This  was  the  learned  Guillaume  Bude, 
the  head  of  the  literary  movement  of  the  Renais- 
sance in  France.  A  most  flattering  welcome, 
both  from  Leo  and  the  illustrious  men  of  his 
entourage,  awaited  Bude  at  the  Papal  Court.  But, 
though  treated  with  great  distinction,  the  only 
result  of  his  mission  was  a  secret  promise  from  the 
Pope  of  neutrality,  he  having,  with  the  same 
secrecy,  already  promised  the  Swiss  envoys  to 
cooperate  with  the  league.  Leo,  who  cherished 
ambitious  designs  of  his  own  —  having  reference 
rather  to  the  establishment  of  his  family  and  his 
own  personal  power  than  to  the  upholding  of  the 


66  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

greatness  of  the  Church  and  the  independence  of 
Italy  —  had  hoped  thus  to  be  enabled  without  com- 
promising himself  to  await  the  issue  of  the  first 
movements  of  the  armies,  and  to  fulfil  his  promise 
to  either  or  neither  as  circumstances  should  sug- 
gest. For  that  Francis's  object  was  the  recon- 
quest  of  Milan  could  no  longer  be  doubted,  since 
Genoa  had  openly  declared  for  the  French, —  an 
intrigue  of  the  doge,  Ottavio  Fregosa,  having 
restored  that  state,  under  certain  conditions,  to 
France. 

The  army  of  invasion  being  fully  equipped  and 
ready  to  march,  Francis,  on  the  15th  of  July, 
confided  the  administration  and  regency  of  the 
kingdom,  with  unlimited  powers,  to  his  mother, 
Madame  Louise  of  Savoy. 

The  grand  military  spectacle  of  the  assembling 
and  departure  of  the  troops  had  attracted  Queen 
Claude  and  Madame  Louise,  with  the  ladies  of 
their  respective  courts,  to  Lyons.  The  army  con- 
sisted of  three  divisions  composed  of  various  corps, 
each  bearing  some  distinctive  mark  of  its  nation- 
ality. The  constable,  in  virtue  of  his  office, 
commanded  the  vanguard,  with  3,000  pioneers 
and  artillerymen  to  clear  the  passage  of  the  Alps. 
Francis  reserved  for  himself  the  corps  de  bataillc. 
The  command  of  the  rear-guard  devolved  on  the 
Due  d'Alencon. 

There  was  a  first  attempt,  it  seems,  as  regarded 


SHEDDING   A  JOY  ON  DUTY  6y 

the  French  army,  to  "shed  a  joy  on  duty,"  by 
adopting  the  fifes,  with  the  accompaniment  of 
"timbales  "  or  small  Saracenic  kettle-drums,  which 
had  been  introduced  by  the  Swiss.  Francis  also 
made  some  changes  in  the  accoutrements  of  his 
troops.  To  the  corps  if  elite,  or  perhaps  one  may 
venture  to  say  the  crack  regiments,  was  allotted 
a  small  plume  in  their  hats,  and  the  standards 
of  the  cavalry  were  altered  in  form.  But,  except 
that  some  improvement  was  made,  or  supposed 
to  be  made,  in  the  weapons  of  war  then  in  use, 
with  the  view  of  superseding  the  longbow  and 
the  crossbow,  which  were,  however,  employed 
with  great  effect  in  this  war,  the  changes  were 
rather  ornamental  than  useful.  The  2,500  gentle- 
men volunteers,  each  with  his  suit  of  four  or  five 
horsemen,  vied  with  each  other  in  the  richness 
and  elaborate  and  expensive  workmanship  of  their 
armour.  But  common  to  all  of  them  was  the 
very  long  single  feather  attached  to  the  helmet, 
and  thence  trailing  down  and  falling  on  the  horse's 
back.* 

Poor  horses !  they  had  a  burdensome  part  to 
play  in  these  wars,  what  with  the  weight  of  the 
heavy  steel  -  clad  heroes  they  carried,  and  the 
restraint  of  their  own  ponderous  trappings.  ( )f 
the  30,000  chargers  which,  in  spite  of  their  fet- 
ters, are  said  to  have  set  out  from  Lyons  full  of 
the  war-horse's  fire  and  animation,  a  frightful 
*  Paul  Lacroix,  "LeSeizime  Siccle." 


68  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

proportion  succumbed  to  the  terrible  fatigue  and 
the  many  casualties  of  the  passage  of  the  Alps. 

But  one  must  not  sympathise  only  with  the 
horses.  Openly  or  secretly,  heart-breaking  leave- 
takings  are  going  on  around  us  ;  and  the  longing 
for  military  glory  that  flames  in  many  a  chivalric 
breast  is  quenched,  at  least  for  the  moment,  by  the 
tears  of  beauty.  While  the  softer  emotions  pre- 
vail, the  steel-encased  lover,  as  he  gazes  into  the 
sad,  imploring,  uplifted  eyes  of  his  "ladye  fayre," 
is  sorely  tempted  to  throw  off  the  odious  panoply 
of  war  and,  bound  by  the  silken  cords  of  love, 
retreat  to  his  lady's  bower. 

But  honour  forbids  it !  It  must  not  be  !  His 
lady  is  the  first  to  say  so.  Bidding  her  knight  "  be 
of  good  courage,"  she  regains  her  own,  smiles 
through  her  tears,  and,  detaching  the  silken  scarf 
that  engirdles  her,  hands  it  to  him.  He  presses 
it  to  his  lips,  and  with  it  the  white  hand  that  gives 
it,  then,  mounting  his  charger  —  which,  impa- 
tiently pawing  the  ground,  seems  more  anxious  to 
be  gone  than  he — rides  off  with  great  speed,  lest 
courage  again  should  fail  him  ;  the  white  scarf 
waving  in  the  breeze.  Oh,  may  he  return  safe 
and  sound,  and  find  his  lady  true  !  But  the  chiv- 
alry of  this  period  was  a  mere  affectation,  and  the 
constancy  of  either  knight  or  lady  not  greatly  to 
be  depended  on. 

Doubtless  there  were  many  distressing  fore- 
bodings, many  painful  partings,  at  this  renewal  of 


THE   FASCINATIONS   OF  LYONS  69 

the  Italian  wars.  But  the  memoirs  of  the  period, 
being  chiefly  military,  do  not  enter  much  into 
domestic  matters.  Now  and  then  —  as  in  the 
memoirs  of  Tavennes  —  great  indignation  is  ex- 
pressed at  the  influence  of  women  in  affairs  of 
state,  and  the  evils  resulting  therefrom  to  France, 
and  especially  from  the  regency  of  Louise  of 
Savoy  and  the  depravity  of  the  band  of  women 
who  composed  the  court  of  this  voluptuous 
woman. 

Sentimental  scenes  between  the  constable, 
Charles  de  Bourbon,  and  Marguerite,  Duchesse 
d'  Alen^on,  have  been  suggested  by  more  modern 
writers,  but  on  very  slight  grounds.  The  constable 
was  married,  and  so  was  Marguerite,  whom  all 
have  agreed  to  praise,  and  many  to  prove  that  her 
almost  licentious  writings  were  the  productions  of 
a  mind  of  perfect  purity.  She  may,  therefore, 
well  be  supposed  to  have  had  her  thoughts  more 
anxiously  occupied  with  the  probable  dangers 
about  to  be  incurred  by  both  brother  and  husband, 
but  especially  the  former,  than  by  a  romantic  pas- 
sion in  which  she  was  the  favoured  rival  of  her 
mother. 

However,  two  divisions  of  the  invading  army 
have  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps.  Francis, 
with  the  division  he  commands,  still  lingers  at 
Lyons.  Like  Charles  VIII.,  when  bound  on  a 
similar  expedition,  he  finds  fascinations  in  that 
city  from   which   he   cannot    easily  tear  himself. 


70  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  wiles  of  fair  women  detain  him.  But  soon  he 
is  roused  from  his  pleasures  by  messengers  from 
the  army.  The  Swiss  have  been  beforehand  with 
the  French.  They  occupy  the  mountain  passes 
with  an  army  20,000  strong,  and  await  in  full 
force  the  advance  of  their  enemy  at  Susa. 

The  French  officers,  to  whom  mountain  warfare 
is  utterly  unknown,  are  in  great  perplexity ;  when, 
by  a  fortunate  chance,  they  are  relieved  by  the 
offer  of  an  aged  man  —  who  for  many  years  past 
had  traversed  the  mountains  in  all  directions,  in 
search  of  game  —  to  point  out  to  them  a  new 
route.  It  is  a  difficult  and  most  perilous  one ;  but 
after  as  much  inspection  as  is  possible  by  the 
dauntless  Lautrec  and  the  more  prudent  and  skil- 
ful Navarro,  the  latter  undertakes  to  make  it  prac- 
ticable, even  for  the  artillery.  This  is  a  sort  of 
reprieve  for  Francis. 

The  work  begins.  The  Durance  is  forded,  and 
the  army  ascends  the  mountains  ;  first  by  narrow 
and  tortuous  defiles  that  present  obstacles  to  their 
progress  at  every  step.  The  soldiers  aid  the  pio- 
neers, the  officers  aid  the  soldiers  —  all,  without 
distinction,  working  with  pickaxe  and  hatchet. 
Navarro,  with  his  sappers  and  miners,  overthrows 
all  accessible  rocks  that  frowningly  seem  to  con- 
front and  oppose  the  onward  march  of  the  troops. 
The  wide  rents  and  chasms  which  then  appear  in 
these  rough,  rude  mountain  roads  are  filled  up 
with  the  branches  of  trees,  and  the  debris  of  the 


PERSEVERANCE   AND  SUCCESS  *]\ 

paths  the  men  clear  for  themselves  as  they 
advance.    Mounting  still  higher,  temporary  bridges 

—  frail  constructions  of  planks,  or  fallen  trees, 
supported  by  ropes  or  any  available  material  at 
hand  —  are  thrown  across  the  yawning  abysses, 
over  which  those  dauntless  men,  braving  death, 
essay  to  pass ;  sometimes  succeeding,  by  sheer 
force  of  arm  and  the  strength  of  indomitable  will, 
in  what  would  appear  to  be  a  superhuman  effort, 

—  the  dragging  up  of  their  cannon  in  safety  to 
these  rocky  heights  never  before  trodden  by  foot 
of  man. 

Sometimes,  too,  on  those  rough,  craggy  roads, 
made  slippery  by  melted  snow,  — which,  with  deaf- 
ening noise,  rushes  in  foaming  cascades  from  the 
mountain  tops,  —  a  false  step  or  a  fall  occurs.  Then 
a  whole  line  of  men  and  beasts  of  burden,  whom 
one  frail  cord  unites,  is  precipitated  into  the  fath- 
omless gulf  beneath  ;  while  the  roar  of  the  Alpine 
torrents,  the  cries  of  the  wounded  and  dying,  the 
shriekings  and  neighing  of  the  weary  and  terrified 
horses,  are  echoed  and  re-echoed  with  frightful 
reality  by  surrounding  rocks  and  mountains  ;  add- 
ing fresh  horror  to  this  weird  scene  of  terror, 
tumult,  and  calamity. 

Towards  the  end  of  their  terrible  journey,  and 
after  so  many  dangers  and  difficulties  overcome, 
one  vast  flinty  rock,  precipitously  steep  on  all 
sides,  long  defies  all  such  means  for  blasting  as 
Navarro  can  bring  to  bear  on  it.     The  spirits  of 


7  2  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

the  men  droop,  for  they  fancy  they  perceive  that 
even  he  begins  to  despair.  But  the  industry, 
audacity  and  perseverance,  which  he  has  hitherto 
shown,  fail  him  not  yet,  and  his  minute  search 
for  a  favourable  spot  for  renewed  operations  is 
rewarded  with  success. 

On  the  eighth  clay  from  that  on  which  their 
perilous  attempt  to  traverse  the  Alps  by  an  un- 
known route  was  begun,  the  French  army  enters 
the  Marquisate  of  Saluzzo;  the  troops  for  the 
most  part  shoeless  and  footsore,  their  fine  feathers 
bedraggled  or  lost,  and  their  smart  new  uniform 
tattered  and  soiled,  but  all  proudly  rejoicing  in  the 
great  feat  now  accomplished.  It  is  the  exploit  of 
Hannibal  renewed  —  the  modern  Hannibal  being 
Pedro  Navarro,  not  he  on  whom  the  fame  of  it  is 
to  rest,  and  who  is  still  at  Lyons,  a  prisoner  in 
silken  fetters. 

Great  is  the  consternation  of  the  Swiss  and 
their  confederates.  Scarcely  can  they  believe 
their  eyes  as  they  behold  the  approach  of  their 
enemy.  A  panic  seizes  them  ;  their  first  impulse 
is  flight  or  dispersion,  and  the  frenzied  harangues 
and  reproaches  of  Cardinal  Sion  restrain  but  a 
part  of  them,  and  offend  the  rest,  who  demand 
their  pay.  Bayard  and  Bourbon  are  of  opinion 
that  to  begin  the  attack  while  confusion  and  dis- 
cord are  rife  among  them  will  ensure  an  easy 
defeat  of  the  Swiss.*     Messengers  are  despatched 

*  Serv&n,  "  Guerres  des  Fraufais." 


BATTLE    OF  MARIGNAN  73 

with  all  haste  to  Lyons,  to  communicate  this  idea 
to  the  king.  He,  however,  thinks  it  more  prudent 
that  active  means  should  be  delayed  until  he  ap- 
pears on  the  scene  at  the  head  of  his  corps  d'armee. 

He  must,  of  course,  take  his  share  of  the  hard- 
ships of  this  glorious  war,  which  is  to  bring  him 
European  renown.  So,  hastily  he  dons  his  ar- 
mour, receives  from  the  fair  countess  a  riband  of 
the  same  heavenly  hue  as  her  own  beautiful  eyes, 
and  half  a  dozen,  at  least,  of  other  tokens  from 
ladies  no  less  fair.  Meanwhile,  the  drums  are 
beating  to  arms ;  the  merry  fifes,  too,  are  heard. 
The  king  tenderly  embraces  Madame  Louise, 
kisses  Marguerite's  hand,  presses  it  to  his  heart, 
then,  from  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  gracefully  wafts 
his  adieux  to  the  tearful  Claude.  Quickly  he 
mounts  his  charger ;  his  brilliant  staff  surround 
him,  and  soon  he  is  on  his  way  to  where  duty  and 
glory  call  him. 

Safely  and  without  obstacle  he  passes  the  Alps, 
then,  crossing  his  uncle's  territory  of  Piedmont, 
with  his  troops  joins  the  rest  of  the  army  at 
Marignan  (Melegnano). 

The  details  of  the  battle  of  Marignan,  which 
would  be  out  of  place  here,  are  given  at  length  by 
several   French   historians.*     The   battle  did  not 

*  See  Servan,  "  Guerres  des  Francais ;  "  Gaillard,  "  Histoire  (It- 
Francois  /.  ;  "  Sismondi,  "Histoire  des  Francais  ;  "  the  historians 
Varillas,  Mezeray,  Gamier,  Michelet,  Henri  Martin,  Dareste,  and 
others;  also,  Guicciardini,  Du  Bellay,  and  other  contemporary 
writers. 


74  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

take  place,  owing  to  the  king  seeking  to  negotiate 
with  the  Swiss,  until  the  13th  of  September.  It 
lasted  part  of  two  days,  and  15,000  Swiss  and 
10,000  men  of  the  French  army  are  said  to  have 
been  slain  in  it.  It  was  a  sort  of  murderous  hand- 
to-hand  fight,  stimulated  by  hatred,  and  less  distin- 
guished in  military  annals  for  valour  or  generalship 
than  for  the  rage  of  the  combatants,  their  desire  for 
vengeance,  and  mutual  thirst  for  blood.  It  termi- 
nated in  a  victory,  such  as  it  was,  for  the  French. 

But  the  chief  objects  of  the  war  were  gained 
by  bribery  and  concessions  rather  than  successful 
fighting, — the  Swiss  evacuating  the  fortress  of 
the  capital  only  on  the  king  undertaking  to  pay 
them  a  million  crowns,  and  to  restore  and  aug- 
ment several  pensions  suppressed  by  Louis  XII. ; 
while  the  Duke  of  Milan,  who  had  retired  to  the 
fortress,  was  induced  to  resign  his  claims  to  the 
duchy  by  the  grant  of  a  pension  of  30,000  ducats, 
a  residence  in  France,  and  a  recommendation  for 
a  cardinal's  hat^-some  writers  say  the  hand  of  a 
French  princess  in  marriage.  It  was,  however,  an 
arrangement  by  which,  as  he  acknowledged,  his 
gain  was  greater  than  his  loss;  as  "it  freed  him 
from  the  tyranny  of  the  Swiss,  the  rapine  of  the 
emperor,  and  the  trickery  of  the  Spaniards." 

The  undisciplined  valour  of  the  king  and  his 
heavy -armed  cavaliers  rather  prolonged  the  car- 
nage than  gained  the  battle.  But  what  his  gen- 
erals accomplished  for  him  spread  the  renown  of 


KNIGHTING    THE  KING  75 

Francis  I.  throughout  Europe,  as  the  conqueror 
of  the  Swiss,  the  "  invincible  destroyers  of  the 
power  of  Charles  the  Bold." 

After  the  battle  the  king  insisted  on  being 
knighted  by  Bayard,  —  the  "  Chevalier  without 
fear  and  without  reproach  ; "  then  proceeded  to 
confer  that  distinction  himself  on  Fleuranges, 
Lautrec,  and  other  favourites.  To  the  constable, 
who  lost  a  brother  in  this  sanguinary  contest,  the 
government  of  Milan  was  confided,  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  valour  he  had  displayed  in  its  conquest, 
as  also  to  relieve  the  king  of  the  uncongenial  pres- 
ence of  that  very  austere  personage. 

A  letter  was  despatched  to  the  regent  mother 
informing  her  of  the  laurels  won  by  "  her  lord,  her 
love,  her  Caesar,"  and  Francis,  having  made  his 
public  entry  into  Milan  with  as  much  military 
pomp  as  the  terrible  condition  of  the  shattered 
French  army  permitted,  then  set  off  for  Viterbo ; 
prepared  to  make  many  concessions,  and  to  sub- 
scribe to  almost  any  proposals,  in  order  to  secure 
the  alliance  of  the  Pope,  and  the  amity  of  the 
Medici  family,  in  support,  as  he  flattered  himself, 
of  his  views  on  Naples  and  the  rest  of  "  his  her- 
itage in  Italy."  The  negotiation  was  conducted 
by  representatives  of  the  Pope  and  king ;  but,  as  it 
appeared  to  be  advisable  that  they  should  discuss 
in  person  the  secret  objects  of  the  treaty,  an  inter- 
view between  Leo  X.  and  Francis  I.  was  arranged 
to  take  place  at  Bologna. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Pontiff  and  King. — Leo  X.  —  The  Court  of  the  Vatican. — 
Francis  Fascinated.  —  The  Bologna  Conference.  —  Francis 
in  Italy. — -The  Hero's  Return.  —  Te  Deums  and  Dirges. — 
What  a  Falling-off  is  Here!  —  Madame  Louise  Alarmed. 
—  Sainte  Claude. —  Death  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain.  —  Henry 
VIII.  of  England.  —  Maximilian  Alarmed. —  Bourbon  Re- 
called.—  Queen  Joanna  of  Spain. — The  Archduke  King. — 
A  Rival  in  Glory. 

>N  the  ioth  of  December  Francis  I.  and 
Leo  X.  met  in  great  state  at  Bologna, 
and  a  very  grand  spectacle  it  was  ;  as 
might  well  be  inferred  from  the  known  habits  and 
tastes  of  both  pontiff  and  king.^  The  royal  cheva- 
lier, with  his  valiant  knights  and  most  distinguished 
captains,  was  attended  by  an  escort  brilliantly 
arrayed,  and  displaying  much  more  of  the  pomp 
and  circumstance  of  war  than  after  a  conflict  so 
desperate  and  so  recent  could  have  been  expected. 
If  the  ragged,  shoeless,  half-naked  remnant  of  the 
Swiss  army  had  succeeded  in  triumphantly  carry- 
ing off  their  great  guns,  and  slowly  and  defiantly, 
in  face  of  the  French,  retreating  in  good  order,  it 
was  evident  that  the  victor,  so  nearly  vanquished, 
had  contrived  to  secure  his  own  and  his  knights' 

76 


leo  x.  77 

military    finery.     Doubtless,    this    made    its    due 
impression. 

In  striking  and  effective  contrast  with  the  martial 
pomp  of  the  king's  retinue,  the  Pope  arrived  in  all 
the  solemn  splendour  of  pontifical  surroundings, 
and  accompanied  by  several  of  those  unequalled 
and  world -famed  artists  whom  it  was  his  pride 
to  attach  to  his  court.  Leo  X.  (Jean  de'  Medici), 
the  son  of  Lorenzo  "  the  Magnificent,"  was  a  man 
of  high  intelligence,  affable  in  conversation,  and 
with  manners  that  gave  the  idea  of  sincerity, 
goodness  and  gentleness.  He  possessed  all  the 
agreeable  qualities  that  distinguished  his  father, 
and  prestige  even  more  brilliant  than  his.  He  was 
still  in  the  prime  of  life  —  thirty-seven  —  remark- 
ably young  for  a  Pope,  being,  in  fact,  the  youngest 
man  that  had  ever  sat  on  the  throne  of  Saint  Peter. 

To  this  celebrated  pontiff  belongs  the  appella- 
tion, "Apostle  of  the  Renaissance,"  far  more  than 
to  his  predecessor,  the  warlike  Julian  II.  — a  man, 
however,  of  nobler  nature  than  Leo  X.,  and  of 
more  patriotic  views  —  to  whom  it  has  been  some- 
times given.  But  Leo  was  especially  the  patron  of 
letters,  science,  and  art,  and  his  boundless  liber- 
ality, together  with  the  high  degree  of  develop- 
ment and  perfection  attained  by  the  arts  under  his 
pontificate,  has  effectually  associated  his  name 
with  this  most  brilliant  period  of  their  history. 
Though  many  of  the  qualities  of  a  great  prince 
are  attributed  to  him,  they  were  sadly  marred  by 


7$  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

the  extreme  impurity  of  his  life,  of  which  his  coun- 
tenance bore  the  traces.  But  the  Cardinal  Palla- 
vicini,  while  acknowledging,  what  could  scarcely  be 
denied,  that  Leo  in  that  respect  was  not  quite  blame- 
less, declared  that  he  yet  was  far  less  profligate  than 
many  of  the  prelates  and  others  who  composed  his 
court.  His  high-bred  courtesy  and  distinguished 
manners  veiled,  it  appears,  in  some  degree,  the 
grossness  of  his  vices.  Nevertheless,  the  Papal 
Court,  if  the  most  learned  and  magnificent  in 
Europe,  was  also  the  most  recklessly  extravagant 
and  dissolute. 

Leo  was  passionately  fond  of  music,  and  daily, 
echoing  through  his  palace,  was  heard  the  sound 
of  instruments  in  tone  and  construction  the  most 
perfect  known  at  that  period ;  and  often,  while 
pacing  to  and  fro,  he  would  hum  the  lively  airs 
that  had  been  played  before  him.  In  his  presence 
the  first  Italian  comedies  were  represented,  and 
few  were  produced  in  his  time  that  he  had  not 
seen  performed.  No  expense  was  spared  by  him 
to  render  the  fetes,  sports,  and  theatricals  given  at 
his  court  both  splendid  and  effective.  He  was  also 
prodigally  munificent  in  offering  presents  and  con- 
ferring rewards,  while  it  was  his  daily  custom  to 
scatter  a  purseful  of  gold  amongst  the  people. 

Thus,  in  magnificence,  expenditure,  pleasure,  and 
gaiety,  the  sovereign  pontiff's  court  surpassed  all 
others.  When,  however,  it  was  known  that  Giulio 
de'  Medici,  Leo's  nephew,  thought  of  bringing  his 


FRANCIS  FASCINATED  79 

young  bride  to  Rome,  and  fixing  his  residence 
there,  "Heaven  be  praised!"  exclaimed  Cardinal 
Bibliena  —  the  most  influential  of  Leo's  admirers 
—  "  for  all  we  wanted  here,  as  a  necessary  comple- 
ment to  the  Papal  Court,  was  a  court  of  ladies." 
As  to  any  religious  sentiment,  it  was  not  only  dis- 
regarded but  wholly  unknown  there.* 

Francis  I.  was  greatly  fascinated  by  the  engag- 
ing manners  of  Leo  X.  —  the  powerful  head  of 
the  Church,  who  employed  the  pontifical  treasure 
in  the  patronage  of  the  men  who  produced  those 
miracles  of  art  his  eye  now  met  at  every  turn. 
The  pontiff  was  quick  to  perceive  the  impression 
he  had  made,  and  well  knew  how  to  turn  to  his 
own  advantage  the  sympathy  and  the  vivid  imagi- 
nation of  the  young  king,  whose  heart  his  amia- 
bility and  his  artistic  tastes  had  so  readily  won. 

The  three  principal  subjects  for  discussion  at 
the  Conference  were —  first,  the  invasion  of  Naples, 
which,  as  part  of  "  his  heritage,"  Francis  was 
desirous  of  reconquering,  and  hoped  for  the  Pope's 
assistance  in  doing  so  ;  secondly,  the  interests  of 
the  feudatories  of  the  Holy  See  ;  and  thirdly,  the 
ecclesiastical  question  of  the  abolition  of  the  Prag- 
matic Sanction,  and  substitution  of  the  new  order 
of  things  known  afterwards  as  the  Concordat. 

Francis  had  intended  to  march  on  Naples  as 
soon  as  the  Bologna  Conference  was  ended.  The 
Pope,  however,  not  caring  to  pledge  himself  to  aid 

*  See  Merle  cl'Aubigne,  "  Histoire  de  la  Reformation." 


J 


8o  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

in  any  such  scheme  (being  really  more  desirous  of 
expelling  the  French  from  Italy  than  of  aiding  to 
establish  them  in  it),  recommended  delay  ;  the 
views  and  aims  of  other  states  rendered,  he  said, 
any  hostile  measures  unadvisable  at  that  moment. 
Thus  Francis  was  dissuaded  from  then  carrying 
out  his  design. 

The  second  question  was  soon  satisfactorily  dis- 
posed of.  The  third  and  most  important  one  was 
left  for  further  discussion  and  settlement  to  the 
chancellor,  Duprat,  and  two  cardinals  named  by 
the  Pope.  The  cession  of  Parma  and  Placentia 
was  once  more  promised  to  France  ;  and  the  king, 
who  believed  that  he  had  secured  some  advantages 
by  his  diplomacy,  took  the  House  of  Medici  and 
the  government  of  Florence  —  then  tending  to- 
wards monarchy  —  under  his  especial  protection. 
But  Leo  is  said  to  have  entered  into  his  engage- 
ments with  the  king  fully  determined  to  elude 
their  fulfilment.* 

The  charms  of  the  Italian  climate,  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  too  facile  Italian  beauties,  purposely 
thrown  in  his  way,  and  the  seductive  dolcc  far 
niente  sort  of  life  Francis  so  readily  fell  into,  were 
fatal  to  his  military  ardour.  Casting  aside  all 
restraints,  he  plunged  into  a  round  of  vicious  and 
degrading  pleasures. 

Early  in  January,  however,  messengers  from  his 

*  J.  Servan,  "  Guerres  dcs  Fran ( ait ;"  Henri  Martin,  "His- 
toire  de  Frame." 


THE  HERO'S  RETURN  SI 

generals,  who  were  anxiously  awaiting  his  arrival 
at  Milan  to  head  his  army,  as  he  had  purposed, 
and  to  lead  it  to  the  conquest  of  Naples,  compelled 
him  to  tear  himself,  though  cruel  was  the  pang, 
from  the  delights  of  the  congenial  life  he  was  lead- 
ing at  Bologna. 

On  arriving  in  his  Italian  capital,  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  his  generals  and  the  great  disappoint- 
ment of  the  troops  —  who,  not  doubting  of  victory, 
were  looking  forward  to  the  pillaging  of  Naples  — 
Francis  announced  his  change  of  plans  ;  dismissed 
a  large  part  of  his  army,  confirmed  Bourbon  in  his 
government,  and  despatched  Lautrec  and  Navarro 
with  the  "  Black  bands "  (German  lansquenets) 
and  the  Gascon  archers  to  assist  the  Venetians, 
as  he  had  promised,  in  retaking  Brescia  and 
Verona. 

Accompanied  by  the  Due  d'  Alencon,  Fleu- 
ranges,  Bonnivet,  and  other  valiant  knights  and 
favourites,  and  escorted  by  a  regiment  of  his 
guards,  the  "chevalier  king"  set  out  on  his 
return  to  France.  The  Alps  were  crossed  towards 
the  end  of  January ;  after  which  Francis  and  his 
military  cortege  halted  at  Blois,  where,  on  making 
a  public  entry  into  that  city,  he  was  received  with 
enthusiasm.  At  Amboise,  Bourges,  Moulins,  and 
other  cities  on  his  route,  a  like  ovation  awaited 
him  ;  but  his  greatest  triumph  was  at  Lyons. 
There  laurel  crowns  were  preparing  to  grace  the 
conqueror's  brow.     There  his  timid  young  queen 


82  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

with  an  infant  daughter,  born  during  his  absence ; 
his  adoring  mother,  frantic  with  exuberant  joy,  yet 
with  a  pang  at  her  heart  when  she  learns  that 
Charles  de  Bourbon  remains  at  Milan ;  and  his 
fondly  attached  but  less  demonstrative  sister,  Mar- 
guerite, assembled  to  welcome  their  victorious 
warrior  home.  There,  too,  are  the  supposed 
rather  staid  ladies  of  the  court  of  Queen  Claude, 
and  the  very  free  and  fair  ones  who  accompanied 
Madame  Louise,  as  well  as  the  far  from  prudish 
belles  whom  Madame  d'Alencon  has  gathered 
around  her.  Fetes,  processions,  ecclesiastical  and 
military,  Te  Dcums,  bonfires,  and  general  re- 
joicings, rough  and  uproarious  as  any  similar 
demonstrations  of  the  present  day,  celebrate  the 
monarch's  return  to  the  second  capital  of  his 
kingdom. 

Yet  lamentation,  mourning,  and  woe  mingle 
with  the  songs  of  triumph,  and  bitter  tears  are 
shed  for  many  a  gallant  youth,  husband,  or  son, 
slain  in  an  unworthy  cause  on  the  gory  field  of 
Marignan  ;  for  all  who  fought,  and  many  of  those 
who  fought  most  recklessly,  were  not  the  hired 
mercenaries,  but  scions  of  the  most  illustrious 
families  of  France,  who,  as  volunteers,  had  eagerly 
joined  the  gendarmerie,  and,  full  of  enthusiasm  for 
their  "chevalier  king,"  followed  him  joyfully  to  the 
battle.  Therefore,  while  the  multitude  sing  loud 
paeans  in  honour  of  the  triumphs  of  their  monarch, 
the  clergy  alternate  the  chanting  of  Te  Deums  for 


WHAT  A    FALLING -OFF  IS  HERE!  83 

victory  with  solemn  dirges  and  masses  for  the 
dead. 

Meanwhile  the  heroic  Francis  solaces  himself 
after  the  fatigues  of  war  in  the  society  of  that 
galaxy  of  youth  and  beauty  his  tenderly  solicitous 
mother  has  brought  with  her  to  Lyons.  Under 
the  skies  of  Italy  other  belles  had  enthralled  him, 
and  it  is  quite  probable  that  since  he  left  France 
he  had  thought  as  little  of  the  fair  Comtesse  de 
Chateaubriand  as  he  had  of  Madame  Claude.  But 
now  he  recognizes  her  amongst  the  ladies  of 
honour  who  accompany  his  queen.  In  her  pres- 
ence he  speaks  with  warm  praise  of  the  valour 
and  daring  of  Lautrec  ;  and  the  pride  and  pleasure 
which  naturally  animate  her  countenance,  as  she 
listens  to  the  king's  commendations  of  her  brother, 
so  heighten  her  beauty  in  his  eyes,  that  while 
admiringly  gazing  on  her  the  libertine  monarch 
becomes  a  captive  at  her  feet. 

Franchise  de  Foix  did  not  spurn  the  husband  of 
the  young  and  amiable  queen  with  whom  she 
had  been  brought  up.  Ah  !  what  a  falling  off  is 
here !  For  Francoise  was  one  of  the  virtuous 
Anne  of  Brittany's  piously  trained  maids  of  hon- 
our, and  the  wife  of  Jean  de  Laval,  Comte  de 
Chateaubriand  —  an  alliance  formed  for  her  by  the 
late  queen.  Was  it,  then,  the  love  of  power  that 
led  her  astray,  or  the  desire  to  use  it  in  elevating 
her  three  ambitious  brothers  to  the  posts  of  hon- 
our  they    coveted  ?     More    probably   it    was    the 


84  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

immoral  influence  of  the  new  court  that  occasioned 
this  sudden  fall  from  virtue  to  vice.* 

The  power  of  the  new  favourite  soon  rivalled 
that  of  Madame  Louise,  who,  alarmed  to  find  that 
her  sway  over  her  son  was  becoming  less  absolute, 
took  every  opportunity  of  depreciating  the  coun- 
tess, of  thrusting  ladies  fair  as  she  into  notice,  in 
order  to  supplant  her,  and,  by  unfounded  sugges- 
tions, striving  to  bring  disgrace  on  her  brothers. 
But  the  countess  maintained  her  empire  over  the 
king  for  several  years,  and  her  influence  is  said  to 
have  been  less  prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  the 
state  than  that  of  Madame  Louise,  with  her  unlim- 
ited powers  as  regent,  her  propensity  for  hoarding 
money,  and  unscrupulousness  as  to  the  means  of 
obtaining  it.f 

The  sovereign's  young,  neglected  wife,  much 
attached  to  her  faithless  husband,  must  have  been 

*  The  story  told  by  Brantome  of  a  stratagem  employed  by 
Francis  to  bring  this  lady  to  his  court,  despite  the  desire  of  her 
husband  to  prevent  it — namely,  by  having  a  facsimile  made 
and  forwarded  to  her  of  a  ring  which  the  count  had  arranged 
to  send  to  his  wife  should  he  wish  her  to  join  him  —  is  no  more 
worthy  of  credit  than  many  other  gossiping  tales  related  by  the 
famous  chroniqueur  scandaleux.  He  was  not  born  until  1540, 
therefore  he  personally  knew  nothing  of  the  reign  of  Francis  I., 
and  very  little  of  that  of  Henry  II.  His  grandfather  was  page 
to  Anne  of  Brittany,  and  from  him  and  his  father  the  court 
scandal  was  obtained  which  Brantome  gives,  adding  thereto  the 
suggestions  of  his  own  depraved  fancy.  Some  incidental  re- 
marks in  the  "  State  Papers"  of  1532  quite  disprove  the  sequel 
also  to  Brantome's  story. 

t  Henri  Martin. 


SAINTE    CLAUDE  85 

deeply  wounded  by  this  flagrant  disregard  of  her 
feelings,  and  no  less  so  by  the  perfidy  of  the 
countess,  hitherto  her  companion  and  friend.  But, 
though  Francis  is  acknowledged  to  have  had  no 
love  for  Claude,  he  is  represented  as  having  so 
high  a  respect  for  her  as  to  have  refrained,  during 
her  lifetime,  from  offering  her  the  indignity  of 
publicly  recognising  even  the  most  influential  and 
favoured  of  his  numerous  mistresses  by  the  hon- 
ourable appellation  of  maitrcssc-en-titrc.  This  is, 
of  course,  to  be  considered  a  convincing  proof  of 
his  nobility  of  mind,  and  of  the  chivalric  senti- 
ments which  animated  the  breast  and  guided  the 
conduct  of  the  "  chevalier  king  "  and  first  gentle- 
man of  France.  The  people,  however,  adored  his 
young  queen  —  "  Sainte  Claude,"  as  they  called 
her,  the  daughter  of  the  good  King  Louis. 

At  about  the  time  that  Francis  was  returning 
from  Italy — -January  the  23d,  15  16  —  there  died, 
somewhat  suddenly,  his  most  powerful  and  per- 
sistent enemy,  Ferdinand  the  Catholic.  The  news 
soon  after  reached  Lyons ;  and  Francis,  who  seemed 
to  have  abandoned  the  government  of  his  kingdom 
to  his  mother  and  her  council  of  regency,  giving 
his  own  attention  exclusively  to  external  politics, 
during  those  brief  intervals  he  could  spare  from 
his  pleasures,  thought  the  moment  favourable  for 
attacking  Naples. 

Influenced   by  the  famous    Cardinal   Ximenes, 


86  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Archbishop  of  Toledo,  Ferdinand,  a  few  hours 
only  before  his  death,  had  altered  his  will  in  fa- 
vour of  the  Archduke  Charles,  Count  of  Flanders, 
whom  he  had  intended  to  deprive  of  his  right  to 
the  regency  of  the  Spains  (kingdoms  of  Castile 
and  Aragon),  to  transfer  it  to  his  younger  grand- 
son, Ferdinand.  The  latter  had  been  born  and 
brought  up  in  Spain  ;  Charles  in  the  Netherlands, 
where,  under  the  care  of  his  aunt,  Margaret  of 
Austria  —  who  during  his  minority  so  ably  gov- 
erned his  heritage — he  had  constantly  resided. 
The  Spanish  king,  having  never  seen  him,  re- 
garded his  daughter's  eldest  son,  from  his  birth- 
place and  bringing  up,  as  a  foreigner,  therefore 
unacceptable  to  Spain. 

Believing  that  civil  war  and  hatred  between  the 
brothers  would  be  the  result  of  Ferdinand's  arrange- 
ment, the  cardinal  remonstrated  with  him,  pointing 
out,  also,  its  injustice.  To  the  admonitions  of  the 
severe  and  powerful  prelate  the  dying  king  readily 
yielded,  and  Charles  was  named  regent  —  the  queen, 
his  mother,  Joanna  "the  Demented,"  being  inca- 
pable of  governing.  Ferdinand,  however,  deter- 
mined that  his  enmity  to  France  should  not  end 
with  his  death,  left  200,000  crowns  to  the  Em- 
peror Maximilian  for  the  purpose  of  raising  an 
army  to  attack  the  French  in  Italy. 

Henry  VIII.  of  England  had  heard  with  exceed- 
ing jealousy  of  the  victory  and  exploits  of  the 
youthful    conqueror  whom    he    had  vainly   coun- 


HENRY    VIII.    OF  ENGLAND  8? 

selled  to  refrain  from  making  war  on  Milan,  and 
in  his  irritation,  which  Ferdinand  encouraged,  had 
allied  himself  more  closely  with  Spain.  He  now 
followed  his  father-in-law's  example,  and  despatched 
a  contribution  of  200,000  crowns  towards  increas- 
ing the  army  the  emperor  was  hurriedly  getting 
together. 

An  order  was  sent  off  to  Bourbon  to  march  at 
once  on  Naples,  Francis  expecting  that  the  papal 
troops  would  join  him  in  attacking  it.  But  instead 
of  conquering  Naples,  it  was  necessary  to  defend 
Milan  against  an  army  30,000  strong,  with  which 
Maximilian  early  in  March  appeared  in  the  Tyrol. 
No  troops,  however,  were  despatched  by  Leo  to 
assist  the  French  either  in  attack  or  defence ;  but 
as  a  part  of  the  Swiss  cantons  were  still  favour- 
able to  France,  they  consented  to  furnish  a  rein- 
forcement of  17,000  men.  A  still  larger  number 
from  the  dissatisfied  cantons  had  joined  the  impe- 
rial forces.  Hostilities  were  about  to  commence, 
and  the  two  armies  to  face  each  other  in  the  field, 
when  messengers  arrived  with  orders  from  the 
Helvetian  Diet  forbidding  the  Swiss  soldiers  to 
slay  each  other  in  the  interest  of  foreigners,  and 
commanding  them  to  return  home. 

The  Swiss  of  the  imperial  army  immediately 
demanded  their  pay.  As  usual,  Maximilian  had 
no  money.  The  clamour  that  ensued,  together 
with  the  contents  of  a  letter  from  General  Tri- 
vulzio   to  the   Swiss   commandant,  written   to  be 


88  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

intercepted,  and  from  which  it  was  made  to  appear 
that  a  plot  existed  to  deliver  the  emperor  into  the 
hands  of  the  French,  so  alarmed  Maximilian,  who 
remembered  the  fate  of  Lndovico  Sforza,  that  he 
fled  with  all  haste  and  secrecy  to  Bergamo,  leav- 
ing word  that  he  had  gone  thither  to  obtain  the 
requisite  funds.  No  one  looked  for  his  return  ; 
and,  as  their  chief  had  forsaken  them,  the  troops 
disbanded  themselves,  and,  by  way  of  indemnity 
for  the  loss  of  their  pay,  they  pillaged  Lodi  and 
other  towns  on  their  route  homeward.  The  issue 
of  this  enterprise,  announced  so  formidable,  and 
at  first  believed  to  be  so,  was  that  the  terror- 
stricken  emperor  became  the  laughing-stock  of 
all  the  courts  of  Europe. 

Soon  after  this  event  the  constable  was  recalled, 
Lautrec  superseding  him  in  the  governorship  of 
Milan.  This  was  at  the  instigation  of  Louise  of 
Savoy,  who  thus  procured  herself  the  double  pleas- 
ure of  annoying  Bourbon  and  of  seeing  him  again. 
She  suggested  to  the  king  the  extreme  danger  of 
leaving  a  prince  so  wealthy,  so  ambitious,  and  with 
troops  devoted  to  him  as  a  brave  and  able  leader, 
in  uncontrolled  power  at  Milan,  insinuating  that 
he  had  designs  on  the  duchy.  Francis  took  alarm, 
and  Bourbon,  much  chagrined,  returned  to  France. 
The  promotion  of  Lautrec  is  attributed  to  the  in- 
fluence—  then  rivalling  that  of  the  king's  mother 
—  of  the  Comtesse  de  Chateaubriand.  The  prize 
of  valour  was  thus  awarded  to  beauty,  the  charms 


QUEEN  JOANNA    OF  SPAIN  89 

of  the  sister  being  a  more  powerful  incentive  than 
the  acknowledged  services  of  the  brother. 

The  death  of  Ferdinand  greatly  changed  the 
relative  positions  in  which,  by  their  treaty  of 
March,  15  15,  Francis  and  the  Archduke  Charles 
stood  towards  each  other.  Naples,  which  Francis 
so  anxiously  desired  to  reconquer,  was  now  pos- 
sessed by  Charles,  to  whom  Ferdinand,  together 
with  his  kingdoms,  had  transmitted  the  war  he  so 
long  had  carried  on  against  France.  Both  princes, 
however,  then  wished  for  peace.  Consequently 
Gouffier  Boissy,  on  the  part  of  Francis,  and  Guil- 
laume  de  Croy  Chievres,  Charles's  minister  —  who, 
like  Boissy,  had  formerly  been  his  master's  gov- 
ernor —  met  at  Noyon  to  negotiate  a  new  treaty. 

The  claims  of  Francis  on  Naples  were  now 
transferred  to  his  daughter  Louise,  an  infant  of 
scarce  a  year  old,  whom,  instead  of  Madame 
Renee,  Charles  engaged  to  marry  on  her  com- 
pleting her  twelfth  year.  It  was  agreed  that  in 
the  interval  Charles  should  retain  Naples,  but  pay 
annually  100,000  gold  crowns  to  Francis,  who  was 
absolved  by  the  Pope  from  fulfilling  the  promise 
of  the  former  treaty  to  give  Renee  in  marriage  to 
the  archduke,  now  Charles  I.  of  Spain. 

Charles,  though  actually  only  regent,  had  imme- 
diately, on  the  death  of  Ferdinand,  assumed  the 
title  and  honours  of  king,  acting  on  the  advice  of 
Chievres  and  other  Flemish  nobles.  Both  Castile 
and  Aragon  resented  this  sort  of  usurpation  of  the 


90  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

prerogatives  of  their  queen  ;  and  when,  after  a 
long  delay,  he  made  up  his  mind  —  being  greatly 
urged  by  Ximenes,  who  governed  so  ably  as 
regent  —  to  visit  the  Spains,  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  that  the  Cortes  were  prevailed  on  to 
consent  to  his  bearing  the  title  of  king  conjointly 
with  his  mother,  whose  name  in  all  public  acts 
was  to  appear  with,  and  precede,  his. 

The  Spaniards  thought  his  conduct  as  a  son 
unnatural,  and  strangely  wanting  in  that  delicacy  of 
sentiment  with  which  Joanna's  subjects  regarded 
her  malady  ;  the  Cortes  having  declined  —  Joanna 
being  unwilling  to  resign  her  rights  —  to  declare 
her  incompetent  to  govern.  Among  the  grandees 
there  were,  in  fact,  some  who  detected,  as  they 
imagined,  signs  of  the  same  mental  infirmity  in 
Charles  as  that  which  afflicted  his  mother.  This 
arose  chiefly  from  his  inability  at  that  time  to 
speak  Spanish  with  any  fluency ;  for  scarcely  did 
he  open  his  mouth  except  to  utter  a  few  incoherent, 
disconnected  words  in  reply  to  the  addresses  and 
harangues  of  both  nobles  and  people ;  and  even 
these  were  suggested  to  him  by  Chievres,  who, 
apparently,  still  exercised  the  full  powers  of  his 
governor. 

Of  the  vast  ambition  which  was  his  ruling  pas- 
sion no  indications  were  perceived  in  Charles  in  his 
sixteenth  year.  Doubtless  he  already  knew  from 
Chievres  —  a  man  of  very  different  character  from 
Boissy,  who   had  influenced  the  youth  of  Francis 


A    RIVAL  IN  GLORY  9 1 

—  how  vainglorious  were  the  sentiments  that  ac- 
tuated and  guided  the  young  French  monarch  ; 
his  indifference  to  affairs  of  state,  his  eagerness 
in  pursuit  of  pleasure.  For  Charles  flattered  the 
vanity  of  Francis,  and,  as  the  betrothed  of  the 
baby  Madame  Louise,  addressed  him  in  his  letters 
as  his  "good  father."  Nothing,  therefore,  yet 
revealed  to  the  conqueror  of  Marignan  that  in  this 
youth,  so  grave,  so  frigid,  and,  as  it  seemed  to 
him,  so  dull  and  spiritless,  he  was  to  find  a  rival 
in  glory. 

The  treaty  concluded  by  the  two  ambassadors  at 
Noyon,  and  ratified  some  months  later  by  Charles 
and  Francis,  was  followed  by  the  "perpetual  peace  " 
with  the  Swiss,  leaving  the  French  for  a  while  in 
undisturbed  possession  of  Lombardy,  and  Europe 
in  the  enjoyment  of  an  interval  of  repose.  But, 
too  soon,  it  is  destined  again  to  be  devastated,  and 
blood  must  flow  in  torrents  ;  the  rivalry  and  ambi- 
tion of  Charles  V.  and  Francis  I.  spreading  discord 
and  misery  throughout  their  dominions  during  the 
remaining  years  of  their  reigns. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

The  News  on  the  Crossroads. —  Thanksgiving  for  Victory. — 
Nocturnal  Amusements. —  Triboulet  the  Court  Jester. — 
The  Regency  of  Madame  Louise. —  The  Clerks  of  the 
Basoche. —  The  Concordat.—  A  Refractory  Parliament. — 
One  who  Had  Played  Many  Parts. —  Propitiating  the  Pope. 
—  Rapid  Promotion. —  Menacing  the  Judges. —  Decease  of 
the  Pragmatique. —  Depravity  of  the  Clergy. —  High  Mass 
in  the  Ste.  Chapelle.  —  Coronation  of  Queen  Claude. — 
Chivalric  Exploits. —  Decorous  Recreation. 

j  HE  political  complications  resulting  from 
Ferdinand's  death  and  the  emperor's 
expedition  against  the  French  in  Italy 
had  delayed  the  king's  triumphal  entry  into  Paris. 
But  now,  crowned  with  fresh  laurels  (Maximilian's 
fight  being  regarded  as  a  new  victory),  peace  with 
Spain  and  the  Swiss  proclaimed,  and  a  general 
peace  negotiating,  Francis  leaves  Blois  for  his 
capital. 

As  then  was  customary,  the  heralds  had  made 
these  great  events  known  to  the  people  by  sound 
of  trumpet,  on  the  crossroads  and  public  places 
of  the  city.  An  enthusiastic  reception  therefore 
awaits  him  —  a  little  less  warm  and  spontaneous 
perhaps  than  it  might  have  been.  This  is  owing 
to  the  great  unpopularity  of  the  regent,  in  which 

92 


THANKSGIVING  FOR    VICTORY  93 

Francis  already  is  beginning  to  share,  because  of 
the  tendency  he  evinces  of  it  being  too  frequently 
his  "good  pleasure  "  to  levy  new  taxes.* 

He  arrived  with  his  court  at  the  Palais  des 
Tournelles  on  the  4th  of  October,  the  royal 
pageant  attracting  crowds  of  sightseers  into  the 
narrow  streets  of  Paris.  The  next  day,  Sunday, 
he  went  to  the  Abbey  of  St.  Denis  in  great 
state  and  with  much  military  pomp,  "  to  return 
thanks  to  God  and  the  glorious  saints  for  the 
great  victory  gained  in  Italy.  The  bodies  of  the 
saints  which,  in  order  to  ensure  on  high  their 
intercession  on  his  behalf,  had  been  exposed  dur- 
ing his  absence,  were  then  restored  to  their  places 
behind  the  altar."  f 

The  "  Bourgeois  "  adds  that  while  Francis  re- 
mained in  Paris  he  and  his  favourite  companions 
"went  about  every  day  in  disguise,  besides  mum- 
ming in  masks  at  night."  These  royal  and  noble 
roysterers,  it  seems  had  not  the  fear  of  the  provost- 
marshal  before  their  eyes.  That  high  civic  au- 
thority, with  his  lieutenant,  the  recorder,  and  his 
archers,  rode  all  armed  every  night  through  the 
streets  of  Paris,  "  punishing  the  misdeeds  of  noisy 
revellers,  arresting  thieves  and  other  evil-doers." 
But  he  is  said  not  to  have  shown,  or  rather  not 
dared  to  show,  the  same  rigour  towards  all  classes  ; 

*  Francis  I.  was  the  author  of  the  formula,  "  Tel  est  noire  bon 
plaisir" 

t "  Journal  J'lin  Bourgeois  tie  Paris,"  /J/6- 


94  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

otherwise  the  streets  of  old  Paris  after  dark  would 
have  been  more  orderly  and  quiet.  The  noble 
youths,  whose  amusement  it  was  to  roam  the  tor- 
tuous lanes  and  streets  of  the  capital  at  such 
unseemly  hours,  had  their  passes  ("  lettres  de 
passe")  which  enabled  them  to  set  the  patrol  at 
defiance,  to  frequent  the  gambling-houses,  and  to 
mingle  in  midnight  brawls  with  impunity. 

But  that  the  dignity  of  the  law  and  that  of  the 
officers  deputed  to  enforce  it  might  not  thus  be 
compromised,  the  provost  and  his  aide-de-camp 
fell  into  the  convenient  habit  of  closing  both  eyes 
and  ears  when  the  clashing  of  swords  and  voices 
loud,  yet  perhaps  less  fierce  than  bantering,  with 
shouts  of  laughter  mingled  with  piteous  cries  for 
mercy,  plainly  indicated  that  the  chivalric  gentle- 
men armed  with  passes  —  Francis  too  often  being 
of  the  party  —  were  abroad  that  night,  and  for 
fun  and  frolic  were  attacking  peaceable  belated 
citizens. 

The  good  people  of  Paris,  long  accustomed  to 
a  quiet,  sedate  life  under  the  reign  of  the  orderly 
Louis  XII.  and  the  pious  Anne  of  Britanny,  were 
exceedingly  scandalised  by  these  riotous  revels, 
and  loudly  complained  of  the  negligence  of  the 
patrol.  All  honest  citizens,  when  compelled  to 
be  out  after  dark,  carried  with  them,  as  decreed 
by  the  law,  small  hand -lanterns.  Generally  the 
first  efforts  of  their  assailants  were  to  possess 
themselves    of    the    lanterns   and    extinguish    the 


TRIBOULET   THE    COURT  JESTER  95 

light.  In  the  scuffle  that  ensued  hard  blows  were 
often  given  and  received,  while  a  falling  mask  or 
two  would  reveal  to  the  affrighted  bourgeois  some 
well-known  faces  amongst  the  brawling  party  of 
aristocratic  and  royal  practical  jokers. 

The  king  was  readily  recognised,  from  his  large 
oval  face  and  very  bold  features.  He  is  said  to 
have  had  a  larger  nose  than  any  other  man  in 
France,  except  Triboulet,  the  court  jester,  which 
would  seem  rather  to  impugn  his  claim  to  that 
large  share  of  manly  beauty  with  which  his  flat- 
terers have  credited  him.  The  royal  nose  was,  of 
course,  a  more  shapely  one  than  poor  Triboulet 
could  boast  of.  He,  who  said  so  many  wise  and 
witty  things,  and  to  whom  so  many  more  he  did 
not  say  are  attributed,  was  a  sad  object  to  look 
upon ;  his  appearance  being  that  of  a  sort  of 
deformed  man-monkey. 

The  clerks  of  the  Basoche,  who  so  often  had 
raised  a  laugh  by  satirising  the  thrift  and  econ- 
omy of  the  late  king, —  mirth  in  which  Louis 
himself  had  sometimes  joined, —  now  ventured  to 
introduce  the  new  monarch  into  their  farces,  and, 
under  a  very  thin  disguise,  to  hold  up  in  a  farci- 
cal fashion  his  and  his  courtiers'  unseemly  revels, 
and  low  amours,  to  public  contempt  and  ridicule. 
Nor  did  they  scruple  to  express  after  the  same 
manner  their  and  the  people's  indignant  censure 
of  the  government  of  the  kingdom  by  Madame 
Louise,    the    regent    mother,    whom    they    repre- 


g6  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

sented,  under  the  name  of  "  Mere  Sotte,"  as  pil- 
laging the  public  treasury,  plundering  on  all  sides, 
and  of  being  the  main  cause  of  the  troubles  of 
the  state. 

Great  was  the  rage  of  both  king  and  regent,  and 
a  stormy  scene  ensued  ;  for  Francis  had  inherited 
his  mother's  unbridled  temper,  her  ill -organised 
mind,  and  violent,  absolute  character.  When  in 
a  passion  he  would  break  and  destroy  furniture, 
and  throw  glasses,  dishes  —  anything,  indeed,  that 
came  in  his  way  —  at  his  attendants  or  at  any  of 
the  people  about  him.  The  offending  players  soon 
discovered  that  the  times  were  changed,  and  that 
to  satirise  royalty  was  a  crime  of  Ifce  majcste. 
Three  of  their  number  were  immediately  seized, 
bound  hand  and  foot,  and  sent  to  Amboise  in 
irons.* 

The  court,  a  few  days  after,  left  Paris.  A  long 
sojourn  in  the  pestiferous  Palais  des  Tournelles 
was  next  to  impossible.  The  foul,  open  ditch  still 
ran  sluggishly  on  under  the  windows  of  the  grand 
salon. \ 

*  "Journal  d'un  Bourgeois  de  Paris"  1516. 

t  The  king's  urgent  commands  to  the  civil  authorities  to  turn 
its  course  were  as  ineffectual  as  those  of  his  predecessor.  The 
reports  of  experts  as  to  the  best  method  of  abating  or  abolishing 
the  nuisance  were  forwarded  to  him,  but  the  money  needed  to 
carry  them  out  was  not  forthcoming.  This  was  the  real  obstacle 
so  difficult  to  overcome,  —  neither  king  nor  municipality  being 
willing  to  incur  the  cost  of  freeing  the  city  from  a  plague-spot 
that  annually  counted  its  victims  by  thousands. 


THE    CLERKS   OF   THE   BASOCHE  g? 

Arrived  at  Blois,  Francis  sent  twelve  archers  to 
bring  thither  other  presumptuous  players  from 
Paris,  and  to  imprison  them  in  one  of  the  cells 
of  the  chateau.  There  they  were  kept  for  some 
months  closely  confined.  One  night,  however, 
they  contrived  to  make  their  escape,  and  sought 
refuge  in  the  Church  of  the  Cordeliers  at  Blois, 
where  they  remained  until  the  coronation  of 
Queen  Claude,  when,  at  her  intercession,  Francis 
graciously  and  unreservedly  (a  pur  et  a  plcin)  par- 
doned the  culprits.*  Henceforth,  the  farceurs  of 
the  Basoche,  if  they  did  not  altogether  refrain  from 
satirising  royalty,  at  least  did  so  more  guardedly, 
and  with  less  freedom  of  speech  than  hitherto. 

However,  an  affair  of  far  greater  importance, 
agitating  the  people  and  bringing  the  king  into 
further  disfavour  with  the  nation,  occurred  while 
he  and  his  court  were  amusing  themselves  at  Blois. 
This  was  the  return  of  Duprat  from  Bologna,  bring- 
ing with  him  the  Concordat,  and  announcing  the 
repeal  of  the  Pragmatic  Sanction,  considered  for 
nearly  a  century  past  the  bulwark  of  the  rights  of 
the  Gallican  Church.  The  Concordat  was,  there- 
fore, received,  both  by  the  clergy  and  the  members 
of  the  judicature,  with  unanimous  indignation.  The 
priesthood  and  the  magistracy  being  the  two  most 
influential  classes  of  the  community  in  the  olden 
time,  as  regarded  the  bourgeoisie,  their  excitement 
soon  spread  to  the  people,  causing  a  general  fer- 

*  "Journal  d'uii  Bourgeois  de  Tarts,"  1517. 


98  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

ment,  not  only  in  Paris,  but  in  all  the  large  towns 
of  the  kingdom. 

The  Concordat  abrogated  the  right  guaranteed 
to  the  clergy  in  1438,  at  Bourges,  by  the  decree 
called  the  Pragmatic  Sanction,  of  the  free  election 
of  their  bishops,  abbots,  and  priors,  and  transferred 
their  nomination  to  the  king.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  revived  the  "Annates,"  or  claim  of  the  Pope  to 
the  first  year's  revenue  of  every  benefice  conferred 
—  a  claim  regarded  by  the  assembly  of  Bourges 
as  the  most  exorbitant  of  the  papal  exactions,  and 
henceforth  to  be  abolished. 

To  Leo  X.,  who  disbursed  with  so  liberal  a  hand, 
whose  revenue,  vast  as  it  was,  still  fell  short  of  his 
needs,  an  increase  of  income  from  any  source  was 
welcome.  But  with  the  restitution  of  the  "  An- 
nates" there  was  the  further  gratification  of  having 
won  back  a  right  of  which  the  papacy  had  been 
so  long,  and  so  ignominiously,  as  it  considered, 
deprived.  "As  to  the  barren  privilege,"  writes 
Mezeray,  "  of  nominating  the  French  prelates, 
though  rightly  belonging  to  the  spiritual  power, 
Leo  was  willing  to  cede  the  exercise  to  the  tem- 
poral prince,  so  that  the  profits  were  ceded  to  him. 
A  singular  exchange,  indeed  !  " 

Francis  was  greatly  amazed  at  the  presumption 
of  the  clergy  and  Parliament  in  expressing  disap- 
probation of  any  measure  it  pleased  him  to  intro- 
duce and  require  the  formality  of  their  assent  to. 
Immediately  he  summoned  the  refractory  Parlia- 


ONE    WHO  HAD   PLAYED   MANY  PARTS      99 

ment,  with  several  prelates,  the  Chapter  of  Notre 
Dame,  and  the  chief  doctors  and  professors  of  the 
university,  to  the  Palace  of  Justice ;  where  he 
went  in  person  on  the  5th  of  February,  accompa- 
nied by  the  chancellor,  whom  he  directed  to  ex- 
plain to  the  assembly  the  objects  of  the  great 
measure  he  had  concluded  with  the  Pope,  and 
to  order  its  registration.  The  Concordat  being 
mainly  the  work  of  the  chancellor,  he,  of  course, 
could  best  explain  it.  He  was  a  man  who  had 
played  many  parts  in  his  time,  from  that  of  a 
humble  attorney  in  Paris,  until,  after  a  variety  of 
ups  and  downs,  he  was  raised,  through  the  favour 
of  Madame  Louise,  to  the  highest  judicial  post  in 
the  realm.  She,  however,  had  not  further  enriched 
him.  Her  own  grasping  fondness  for  money,  and 
her  habit  of  hoarding  it,  made  her  chary  of  con- 
ferring pensions,  or  of  dipping  into  the  coffers  of 
the  state,  except  to  increase  her  own  concealed 
treasure ;  not  a  crown  of  which  would  she  part 
with,  even  for  the  "idolised  son  —  her  Caesar,  her 
lord,  her  love  "  — when,  some  few  years  later,  with- 
out applying  to  the  state,  she  could  have  paid  his 
children's  ransom. 

Duprat  had  recently  become  a  widower,  and, 
having  a  numerous  family  growing  up,  desired 
to  secure  a  large  increase  of  income  to  establish 
them  in  the  world  with  the  eclat  befitting  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  the  great  chancellor  of  France. 
The  king,  being  then  anxious  at  any  sacrifice  to 


100  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

secure  friendly  relations  with  the  Pope  —  notwith- 
standing his  recent  failure  in  his  promise  to  aid 
him  —  afforded  the  chancellor  the  opportunity  he 
sought.  To  enter  the  Church  with  the  hope  of 
obtaining  some  rich  benefice  had  before  occurred 
to  him  ;  but  while  the  system  of  election  was  in 
force,  he  knew  that  the  hope  was  a  vain  one. 

It  had  been  customary  with  the  popes  to  urge 
the  kings  of  France  to  abolish  the  Pragmatique. 
Leo  X.  had  greatly  pressed  it  both  on  Louis  XII. 
and  Francis  I.  The  latter,  still  hoping  to  secure 
Leo's  concurrence  in  his  views  on  Naples,  con- 
sented to  Duprat's  suggestion  that  the  question 
should  be  discussed  at  Bologna,  and  some  new 
arrangement  more  satisfactory  to  his  holiness 
entered  into.  The  result  was  the  Concordat,  and 
a  cardinal's  hat  for  Duprat,  as  an  acknowledgment 
from  the  Pope  of  the  ability  with  which  he  had 
conducted  the  negotiation. 

"  To  propitiate  the  Pope,  Duprat  induced  the 
king  servilely  to  submit  to  attend  on  his  holi- 
ness, to  walk  before  him,  and  hand  him  a  basin  of 
water  to  wash  his  holy  hands  in"  —  of  all  respon- 
sibilities, probably.  But  with  this  famous  Con- 
cordat, he  told  his  royal  master  —  the  Pope 
receiving  only  one  year's  revenue,  and  leaving  the 
nominations  to  him  —  he  would  have  six  arch- 
bishoprics, eighty -three  bishoprics,  and  a  large 
number  of  abbeys  and  priories  to  dispose  of.  "  A 
fine  civil   list,  indeed,"   says   Michelet,   "for   one 


RAPID   PROMOTION  IOI 

who  knew  how  most  advantageously  to  dispose  of 
it." 

Francis,  indeed,  profited  little  by  the  Concordat, 
in  the  way  of  putting  money  in  his  purse.  But, 
as  his  purse  had  rarely  any  money  in  it,  the  Con- 
cordat furnished  him  with  an  excellent  substitute 
for  it.  Instead  of  his  newly  acquired  power  open- 
ing a  way,  as  was  expected,  to  preferment  in  the 
Church  to  the  younger  nobility, —  then  confined 
solely  to  the  profession  of  arms, —  he  made  arch- 
bishops and  bishops  of  his  favourites,  abbots  and 
priors  of  architects,  painters  and  sculptors,  —  ex- 
empted, of  course,  from  any  ecclesiastical  duties. 
"  Nothing,  therefore,  was  left  for  the  noblesse, 
whose  irritation  exceeded  even  that  of  the  people."* 

But  Duprat,  besides  attaining,  at  one  bound,  to 
the  dignity  of  cardinal,  was  nominated,  under  the 
new  regime,  Archbishop  of  Sens,  Bishop  of 
Meaux,  Albi,  Coutances,  Diez,  and  Gap,  also 
Abbot  of  Fleury,  or  Saint-Benoit-sur-Loire.  Du- 
prat, should,  therefore,  have  been  an  eloquent 
advocate  of  the  advantages  of  the  Concordat. 
Yet  his  advocacy  of  it  did  not  convince  the  as- 
sembly convoked  by  the  king.  The  Parliament 
demanded  time  for  its  due  examination,  the  prel- 
lates  and  doctors  suggested  the  summoning  of  a 
national  council,  to  decide  on  its  adoption  or  rejec- 
tion, they  being  unable  to  give  an  opinion  upon  it. 

"You  are  not  able!"  exclaimed  the  king,  rising, 

*  Michelet. 


102  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

in  a  passion.  "  I  will  compel  you  to  be  able,  or  I 
will  send  you  all  to  Rome  to  give  your  reasons  to 
the  Pope." 

Nevertheless,  the  opposition  to  the  Concordat 
continued,  and  the  king,  losing  all  patience,  signed, 
on  the  15th  of  May,  letters  patent  ordering  the 
Parliament  and  other  tribunals  henceforth  to 
take  the  Concordat  as  the  basis  of  their  decrees, 
or  judgments  in  ecclesiastical  matters.  The  tri- 
bunals boldly  replied  by  a  demand  for  the  resto- 
ration of  the  Pragmatic  Sanction,  to  which  the 
king  responded  by  menacing  the  judges  with 
imprisonment. 

These  persistent  opposers  of  the  royal  will 
were  the  magistrates  who  had  bought  their  places, 
and  could  not  be  removed  at  his  majesty's  good 
pleasure.  Little  did  Francis  and  his  chancellor 
suspect,  when  they  introduced  this  venal  practice, 
in  order  to  supply  the  king's  needs,  that  they 
were  creating  an  independent  body  of  judges, 
who  generally  would  care  more  for  their  reputa- 
tion with  the  public,  as  impartial  administrators 
of  the  laws,  than  to  conform  to  the  views  and 
wishes  of  the  sovereign  when  not  in  accordance 
with  justice. 

Not  until  the  following  year  was  the  Concordat 
registered,  and  then  under  protest  only,  and  with 
all  sort  of  reservations,  "  by  the  express  order 
of  the  king."  Street  disturbances  occurred,  for 
the  priests    from  their  pulpits   raved   incessantly 


DECEASE    OF   THE   PRAGMA  TIQUE  103 

against  "  the  unworthy  abandonment  of  the  liber- 
ties of  the  Gallican  Church,"  a  phrase  that  excited 
the  people  almost  as  much  as  the  revolutionary 
cry  of  "La patrie  en  danger." 

But  the  Concordat,  though  registered,  was 
treated  by  the  Parliament  of  Paris — the  provinces 
following  their  example — as  a  mere  dead  letter, 
and  nearly  ten  years  had  elapsed  —  1527  —  when 
the  king,  unable  to  conquer  the  resistance  of  the 
judges,  transferred  from  the  Parliament  to  the 
Grand  Council  the  right  of  giving  judgment  in 
any  proceedings  relative  to  the  ecclesiastical  elec- 
tions. Then  the  Concordat  was  observed,  but  it 
never  found  favour,  and,  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration, was  protested  against  ;  *  while  the  virtues 
of  the  deceased  and  universally  lamented  Pragma- 
tique  were  lauded,  even  by  every  successor  of  the 
great  Cardinal  Duprat,  as  long  as  the  French 
monarchy  existed. 

Francis  I.,  besides  his  arbitrary  edict  concern- 
ing the  chase,  had  made  two  long  strides  towards 
despotism.  First,  he  usurped  the  rights  of  the 
States  General  by  levying  taxes  without  their 
sanction ;  secondly,  he  usurped  the  right  of  the 
Church  to  elect  its  own  chiefs.  To  resist  this 
gradual  invasion  of  national  rights  —  not  to  show 
sympathy  with  the  dissolute  priesthood  —  was  the 
object  of  the  Parliament's  strenuous  opposition  to 
the  Concordat. 

*  Henri  Martin. 


104  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  prelates  elected  by  the  suffrages  of  monks 
and  canons  were  men  of  the  most  licentious  lives ; 
jovial  companions  and  epicures,  who  could  be  con- 
fidently counted  upon  to  offer  no  obstacle  to  the 
infamous  state  of  things  existing,  as  a  rule,  in 
every  monastery  and  convent  in  the  kingdom. 
The  example  of  the  wearer  of  the  triple  crown  was 
duly  followed  by  bishops,  abbots  and  priors,  in  all 
its  revolting  depravity.  What  startling  horrors 
are  revealed  by  some  writers  of  that  period  of 
clerical  impurity,  as  scenes  of  monastic  life  of 
ordinary  occurrence  !  The  mind  turns  from  them 
with  a  shudder.  Morals,  then,  suffered  not  by  the 
establishing  of  the  Concordat,  nor  did  they  in  any 
way  gain  by  it.  "  The  only  change  was  that  the 
revenues  of  the  king's  lay  prelates  were  squan- 
dered at  court  instead  of  in  their  dioceses  and 
abbeys."  * 

During  the  earlier  period  of  this  agitation  of 
Church  and  state,  popular  indignation  was  often 
soothed,  excitement  kept  down,  and  the  love  of 
the  Parisians  for  gay  pageants  frequently  gratified, 
by  grand  displays  of  royal  pomp  and  splendour. 
Early  in  151 7,  an  embassy  arrived  in  Paris  from 
the  young  King  of  Spain,  accompanied  by  two  or 
three  grandees,  in  order  to  ratify  the  treaty  of 
peace  Charles  and  Francis  had  agreed  on,  and  to 
attend  the  ceremony  of  the  betrothal  of  the  former 
to  the  infant  daughter  of  the  latter. 

*  Henri  Martin. 


HIGH  MASS  IN  THE  STE.  CHAPELLE      105 

One  can  readily  imagine  that  the  celebration  of 
high  mass,  which  followed  the  betrothal,  and  took 
place  in  the  Ste.  Chapelle,  was  of  unusual  im- 
pressiveness  —  the  marvellous  beauty  of  the  edi- 
fice; the  magnificently  decorated  altar;  the  rich 
vestments  of  the  officiating  priests  ;  the  splendid 
and  picturesque  Spanish  costumes  worn  by  the 
grandee  representing  Charles,  and  the  nobles  of 
his  suite,  who  occupied  one  side  of  the  chapel, 
must  have  formed  a  spectacle  of  imposing 
grandeur.  On  the  opposite  side,  worthily  com- 
pleting the  picture,  stood  Francis  and  his  queen, 
his  mother  and  sister,  splendidly  arrayed ;  with 
them  were  the  princes  of  the  blood,  the  great 
officers  of  state,  and  the  nobles  and  ladies  compos- 
ing the  French  court. 

In  compliment  to  the  Spaniards,  Francis  wore 
on  this  occasion  "  an  ample  mantle  of  crimson 
velvet,  similar  to  the  ambassador's,  very  long  and 
trailing  on  the  ground  ;  with  a  large  chaperon,  or 
hood,  of  the  same  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  in 
Spanish  fashion.  He  wore  also  the  Archduke 
King's  Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece."  After  mass 
there  was  a  banquet,  both  being  repeated  on  the 
following  day,  with  the  additional  and  concluding 
ceremony  of  touching  for  the  king's-evil  —  when 
many  sufferers  are  said  to  have  been  cured  of 
their  malady.* 

Having   betrothed    his    daughter,    Francis    be- 

*  "Journal  (Tun  Bourgeois  Jc  Paris.'1'' 


106  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

thought  him  of  the  long  deferred  coronation  of 
his  queen.  It  had  greatly  disappointed  the  people, 
whose  sentiments  towards  the  daughter  of  Louis 
XII.  were  those  of  love  and  reverence,  that  she 
was  not  crowned  at  St.  Denis  with  the  king ; 
many  believing  that  he  derived  his  right  to  the 
crown  from  his  marriage  with  Claude.  But  dis- 
appointment was  deepening  into  resentment,  as 
gradually  they  were  learning  to  estimate  their 
king  at  his  proper  value. 

The  coronation  of  Claude  was  therefore  a 
politic  act  at  this  time  of  general  discontent ;  dis- 
content arising  not  merely  out  of  the  affair  of  the 
Concordat,  and  the  famine  which  then  prevailed 
in  France  —  for  which  no  better  remedy  could 
be  devised  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering  people 
than  carrying  the  shrine  of  "  Madame  Ste.  Gen- 
evieve"  in  procession  through  the  city.  But  com- 
plaints to  the  civic  authorities,  often  accompanied 
by  threats,  had  been  more  numerous  of  late  of 
the  gross  outrages  nightly  committed  in  Paris. 
These  flagrant  acts,  it  was  observed,  always  oc- 
curred when  it  was  the  good  pleasure  of  the  king 
with  his  dissolute  favourites  to  sojourn  a  short 
time  in  his  capital,  or,  for  the  enjoyment  of  the 
chase,  at  the  hunting-seat  of  St.  Germain. 

This  chivalric  band,  emboldened  by  their  immu- 
nity from  arrest  or  imprisonment,  no  longer  con- 
fined themselves  to  attacking  inoffensive  people 
in  the  streets.     They  now  forced  their  way  into 


Palace  oj  St.   Germain. 

Photo-etching  from  an  old  print. 


DECOROUS  RECREATION  \0J 

houses,  to  the  great  terror  of  the  inmates,  wher- 
ever they  could  effect  an  entrance  ;  ill  -  treating 
masters  and  servants,  insulting  wives  and  daugh- 
ters, upsetting  furniture  and  "  playing  pranks 
which  the  people   took  very   complainingly."  * 

But  the  coronation  of  Queen  Claude  is  an- 
nounced, and  for  the  moment  diverts  attention 
from  all  besides.  Again  St.  Denis  is  the  scene 
of  a  very  grand  show,  and  Claude's  public  entry 
into  Paris  is  a  perfect  triumph.  It  is  graced  by 
all  the  great  nobles  and  ladies  of  Brittany,  while 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  is  boundless.  Forty- 
two  ladies  arrayed  in  rich  velvet  robes,  and  wear- 
ing gold  hats  in  the  form  of  a  crown,  ride  in  the 
queen's  procession,  mounted  on  mules  with  hous- 
ings of  cloth  of  gold.  Trumpets  and  clarions 
precede  them,  "sounding  together  very  melodi- 
ously, as  a  sort  of  decorous  recreation  {recreation 
honnite)  according  well  with  Te  Deums  and 
praises  to  God  and  the  Virgin  Mary."  f 

The  usual  fetes,  tournaments,  bonfires,  etc., 
followed  —  amusing  the  people  in  spite  of  their 
many  privations,  and  inspiring  a  hope  that  the 
crowning  of  "  Madame  Sainte  Claude "  would 
lead  to  that  change  for  the  better  which  "  Ma- 
dame Sainte  Genevieve"  had  not  deigned  to 
grant  to  their  prayers. 

*  "Journal  (Pint  Bourgeois  de  Paris"  ijij- 
t  "Journal  aim  Bourgeois  de  Paris." 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Splendour  of  the  Papal  Court. — Art,  Literature,  and  Chivalry. 

—  Leonardo  da  Vinci.  —  Pencil  and  Palette  Laid  Aside.  —  A 
Death  -  bed  Confession.  —  Movable  Pictures.  —  Unveiling 
Raphael's    Works. — Jean  Goujon.  —  A   Hopeless   Passion. 

—  The  Chateau  de  Moulins. —  Park  and  Grounds  of  Mou- 
lins.  —  O'ershadowed  by  a  Cloud.  —  A  Royal  Dish  of  Wind- 
sor Beans.. —  A  Dish  to  Set  Before  a  King.  —  Salads  and 
Fruits.  —  More  Regal  than  the  King.  —  Blessings  on  the 
New-born  Babe. 

l^b^pURING  his  sojourn  in  Italy,  brief 
though  it  had  been,  Francis  was  viv- 
idly impressed  by  the  great  superiority 
of  the  Italians,  compared  with  the  French,  in  all 
that  concerned  art  and  literature.  The  splendour 
of  the  Papal  Court,  so  lavishly  displayed  by  Leo 
X.,  with  its  luxury  and  voluptuousness,  its  varnish 
of  exceeding  refinement  combined  with  and  con- 
cealing its  excessive  depravity  —  forming  a  sort  of 
pagan  elysium  —  was  also  in  a  high  degree  fasci- 
nating and  seductive  to  a  mind  like  that  of  the 
young  French  king's,  which  had  never  known  any 
moral  training,  or  been  subjected  to  any  whole- 
some restraints  whatever. 

Henceforth,  then,  the  Papal   Court  was  to  be 
rivalled  by  the  Court  of  France ;  and  in  prodigal- 
108 


ART,   LITERATURE,   AND    CHIVALRY       IO9 

ity  and  licentiousness  doubtless  it  was.  But  the 
"chevalier  king"  had  determined  that  under  his 
patronage  art  and  letters  also  should  receive  fur- 
ther development,  and  flourish  in  France  as  in 
Italy.  He  had,  indeed,  little  true  feeling  for  either, 
and  rather  proposed  to  invite  eminent  Italians  to 
reside  in  France  than  to  cultivate  native  talent. 

Like  Leo,  to  surround  himself  with  great  art- 
ists, with  men  of  genius  and  of  eminent  scholar- 
ship, would  be  enhancing  the  prestige  of  a  reign 
destined,  as  he  fancied,  to  be  distinguished  by  the 
revival  of  ancient  chivalry  (instead,  as  it  really 
was,  of  its  decay  and  extinction),  and,  in  short, 
placing  on  his  already  laurel  -  wreathed  brow  an 
aureola  of  literary  and  artistic  glory. 

Francis,  while  in  Italy,  is  said  to  have  seduced 
Leonardo  da  Vinci  from  the  service  of  the  Pope  ; 
and  it  is  true  that  this  celebrated  master  did  visit 
France  towards  the  end  of  1 5  1 6  or  early  in  151 7. 
He  was  of  course  well  received  by  the  king,  who 
gave  him  an  apartment  in  the  Chateau  de  Clous, 
near  to  that  of  Amboise.  He  had  bought  in 
Italy,  for  4,000  gold  crowns,  this  painter's  por- 
trait of  the  beautiful  "  Mona  Lisa."  He  now  com- 
missioned him  to  paint  a  cartoon  ("Santa  Anna") 
and  to  decorate  several  palaces.  These,  as  yet, 
had  cither  no  existence,  or  at  best  were  but  hunt- 
ing-seats destined  to  become  royal  chateaux  when, 
by  and  by,  Blois  and  Amboise  did  not  offer  variety 
enough  to  a  court  always  en  voyage. 


IIO  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Leonardo  had  for  some  time  been  in  failing 
health,  and  was  suffering  from  partial  paralysis 
of  the  limbs  ;  for  the  dissipations  of  the  Italian 
courts  told  on  the  lives  of  those  sons  of  genius 
who  were  their  glory.  His  determination  to  leave 
Florence  for  France  was,  however,  induced  by 
Michael  Angelo's  departure  from  that  city,  and 
the  mortification  he  felt  on  learning  that  he  had 
left  because  Leo  X.  had  sent  for  the  great  archi- 
tect and  painter  —  between  whom  and  Leonardo 
da  Vinci  rivalry  and  consequent  discord  had  long 
subsisted  —  to  design  the  facade  of  the  Church  of 
St.  Lorenzo,  at  Rome.  Seventeen  years  earlier, 
when  at  the  height  of  his  fame,  Leonardo  had  de- 
clined to  visit  France,  though  urged  by  a  patron 
more  enlightened  and  enthusiastic,  and  even  more 
liberal,  than  Francis  I.  in  his  payments  for  the 
chefs-d'oeuvre  of  sculpture  and  painting  executed 
for  him.     This  was  Cardinal  Georges  d'Amboise. 

The  climate  of  France  was  supposed  by  the 
Italians  to  have  a  depressing  effect  on  genius. 
Besides,  life  was  not  so  pleasant  at  Des  Tour- 
nelles  as  at  the  Vatican,  or  even  at  Blois  and 
Amboise  as  at  Florence,  Pisa,  Umbria,  and  other 
Italian  courts.  But  as  Francis  continued  for 
years  to  come  to  ravage  Italy,  Italian  artists  at 
times  sought  refuge  in  the  dominions  of  their 
oppressor  from  the  ruin  he  had  heaped  on  their 
country.  Many  of  the  industrial  arts  and  man- 
ufactures   for   which    France    has    since    become 


PENCIL   AND  PALETTE  LAID   ASIDE      I  I  I 

famed  were  in  like  manner  introduced  by  Italian 
refugees. 

Leonardo,  however,  had  not  visited  France  to 
paint  pictures  and  decorate  palaces,  but  only  to 
die  there.  He  had  thrown  pencil  and  palette 
aside,  and  taken  up  the  Catholic  mass-book,  being 
anxiously  desirous  of  acquainting  himself  with  the 
Roman  ritual  and  the  Christian  faith,  in  order  to 
secure  the  salvation  of  his  soul,  which  hitherto  he 
seems  to  have  neglected.  He  died  at  the  Chateau 
de  Clous,  in  15  19,  aged  sixty-six,  not,  as  has  been 
sometimes  related,  "  in  the  arms  of  the  king,  his 
head  resting  on  the  royal  shoulder,"  but  with  his 
friend  Melzi  at  his  bedside ;  his  death  being  an- 
nounced to  Francis  at  the  same  time  as  Melzi 
sent  the  intelligence  to  the  painter's  relatives  in 
Florence.  He  was  buried  at  Amboise,  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Florentin. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci  was  one  of  the  most  dilatory 
and  indolent  of  the  great  painters,  —  delaying  for 
a  most  unconscionable  time  the  execution  of  the 
many  commissions  he -received.  Patrons  would 
sometimes  grow  weary  of  this  long  waiting. 
Leonardo  would  then  rouse  himself  from  his 
dreamy  mood,  and  dispel  any  possible  latent  feel- 
ings of  dissatisfaction  by  the  beauty  of  his  work, 
which  may  indeed  have  owed  something  to  that 
meditative  habit  ascribed  to  indolence,  or  too 
great  a  love  of  the  dolcc  far  niente.  He  con- 
fessed   this    failing    as    a    sin,  on   his   death -bed, 


112  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

regretting  that  he  had  neglected  to  employ  the 
great  talents  God  had  given  him  as  extensively 
and  usefully  as  he  might  have  done. 

Vasari  speaks  of  the  countenance  of  Leonardo 
da  Vinci  as  of  so  perfect  a  type  of  manly  beauty, 
that  no  portrait  or  description  had  ever  done 
justice  to  it  ;  or,  to  use  his  own  words,  it  had 
"never  been  adequately  extolled." 

No  other  Italian  painter  of  eminence  was  then 
in  France,  or  probably  was  inclined  to  displease 
Leo  X.  by  responding  to  the  king's  invitation 
to  accompany  or  follow  him  thither.  Raphael 
was  then  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  and  to  have 
borne  him  off  to  France  would,  in  some  sense, 
have  been  a  conquest  greater  than  the  conquest 
of  Milan.  But  the  Pope  —  to  whom  any  dis- 
comfiture inflicted  on  France  or  her  king  gave 
such  hearty  enjoyment,  whether  by  his  own 
or  another's  hand  — -  had  very  effectual  means 
at  command  for  preventing  the  stars  of  the 
Italian  courts  from  shedding  lustre  on  the 
court  of  the  "barbarians."  Leo  was  no  less 
prone  than  Julian  II.,  his  predecessor,  to  apply 
that  epithet  to  the  French,  and  to  exclaim  with 
that  warlike  prelate,  "  Drive  out  the  barbarians 
from  Italy !  " 

If,  however,  Francis  could  not  carry  off  the 
artist,  he  at  least  succeeded  in  obtaining  several 
of  his  works.  Raphael  was  accounted  a  wonder- 
fully  prolific    painter ;    though   of    the   numerous 


MOVABLE  PICTURES  I  13 

productions  attributed  to  him,  many,  doubtless, 
are  either  wholly  the  work  of  some  one  of  his 
band  of  fifty  pupils,  or,  at  most,  received  but  a 
few  finishing  touches  from  the  master's  hand. 

At  about  this  time  only,  movable  pictures,  to 
be  hung  on  walls  as  ornaments,  began  to  be  in 
frequent  demand.  It  is  considered  doubtful 
whether  before  the  sixteenth  century  any  such 
existed.  For  what  would  now  be  termed  the 
easel  pictures  of  the  older  masters  have  been 
detached  from  some  articles  of  civil  or  ecclesiasti- 
cal furniture.  Altar-pieces,  portraits  of  saints, 
Madonnas,  etc.,  were  not  then  suspended,  put  up, 
or  taken  down,  as  adventitious  adornments,  but 
formed  part  of  the  solid  structure,  included  in  the 
general  conception  of  the  building,  as  the  neces- 
sary adjuncts  of  architecture.* 

When  Raphael's  "Saint  Michael,"  in  15  17,  and 
"Holy  Family,"  in  15  18  (now,  or  not  long  since, 
at  Fontainebleau),  arrived  in  France,  Francis  gave 
each  of  them  a  no  less  solemn  reception  than  that 
which  the  early  Christian  kings  were  wont  to 
accord  to  the  most  holy  reliques  brought  from 
the  East.  It  was  a  mark  of  the  highest  favour 
to  be  permitted  to  take  a  furtive  glance  of  the 
great  artist's  chef-  cV  ceuvre  before  the  day  when, 
in  the  principal  gallery  of  the  palace  and  to  the 
sound  of  trumpets,  the  curtain  was  drawn  aside 

*  See   Quarterly  Review,   1840,    Passavant's   "Life    of    Ra- 
phael." 


114  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

and  revealed  it  to  the  eager  gaze  of  the  Court.* 
Raphael's  last  great  work,  "  The  Transfiguration," 
appears  to  have  been  intended  for  France ;  but 
the  painter's  death,  in  1520,  gave  it  another  des- 
tination. 

The  remarkable  talent  of  Jean  Goujon,  after- 
wards so  famous  as  a  sculptor  and  architect,  had 
already  begun  to  develop  itself  in  his  painting 
on  glass,  f  to  be  followed  by  painting  in  oil.  Yet 
Francis  gave  no  encouragement  to  this  rising 
young  artist,  though  the  talent,  so  evident  in  the 
early  efforts  of  Jean  Goujon,  might  have  been 
thought  worthy  of  royal  protection.  But  it  was 
not  the  youthful  aspirations  of  native  genius  that 
awakened  interest  in  the  self-absorbed  mind  of 
the  "chevalier  king"  (title  little  deserved).  His 
patronage  was  reserved  for  men  already  renowned 
for  their  genius  and  learning,  and  who,  by  their 
presence  at  his  court,  were  able  to  add  something 
to  the  refulgence  of  his  own  glory. 

But  other  interests  than  those  of  art  now  forced 
themselves  on  the  king's  attention. 

The  usually  smooth  course  of  his  vicious  pleas- 
ures had  been  constantly  ruffled  ever  since  — 
acting  on  the  advice  of  Louise  of  Savoy  —  he 
recalled   Charles   de   Bourbon    from   Milan.     His 

*  Henri  Martin. 

I  Some  specimens  of  his  glass -painting  still  exist  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Sens,  and  in  the  chapel  of  the  Chateau  de  Vin- 
cennes. 


A    HOPELESS  PASSION  115 

presence  at  court  gave  rise  to  continual  annoy- 
ance and  perplexity,  as  well  to  the  king  as  to 
Louise  and  their  favourites.  Cold,  haughty,  and 
of  severely  moral  life  (surprising  rarity  in  the  age 
in  which  he  lived),  it  was  yet  the  constable's  mel- 
ancholy fate  to  inspire  the  belles  of  the  court  with 
love  that  he  sought  not.  His  grave  demeanour 
should  indeed  have  had  a  contrary  effect  on  ladies 
of  such  gay  humour.  Yet  if  his  dark  Italian  eyes 
(his  mother  was  a  princess  of  Gonzaga)  rested  but 
a  moment  on  the  fair  face  of  Franchise  de  Foix, 
as  it  appears  they  sometimes  did,  perhaps  in  pity, 
the  lynx-eyed  Louise,  who  watched  his  every  look 
and  movement,  failed  not  to  see  it,  as  well  as  the 
deepened  colour,  fancied  or  real,  that  suffused  the 
cheek  of  the  countess. 

Urged  by  jealousy  and  the  ardour  of  her  hope- 
less passion,  that  could  not  wrest  from  the  duke 
even  a  glance  of  pity,  she  sought  consolation  in 
raising  suspicions  in  the  king's  mind  of  the  fidelity 
of  his  mistress,  whom,  as  her  rival  also  in  influ- 
ence over  her  son,  she  hated  and  endeavoured  to 
ruin.  Further,  by  thus  inflaming  his  already 
resentful  feeling  towards  the  constable,  whom  she 
believed  she  loved,  she  hoped  to  effect  his  down- 
fall, too,  for  so  persistently  slighting  that  love. 

An  event,  tending  to  increase  the  estrange- 
ment already  subsisting  between  the  king  and  his 
cousin  of  Bourbon,  occurred  soon  after  Claude's 
coronation.     It  was  the  christening  of  the  Comte 


Il6  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

de  Clermont,  the  constable's  newly  born  son  and 
heir.  The  king  having  acceded  to  the  wish  of 
the  parents  that  he  and  his  queen  should  become 
the  child's  sponsors,  he  and  Queen  Claude,  with  the 
Duchesse  Louise,  Marguerite  of  Angouleme,  and 
other  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  court,  left  Blois 
for  the  Chateau  de  Moulins,  for  the  celebration  of 
the  ceremony. 

Moulins  was  a  princely  residence,  —  Charles  de 
Bourbon,  no  less  than  Francis,  being  a  lover  of 
magnificence,  also  a  patron  of  the  beaux-arts,  and, 
perhaps,  a  more  enlightened,  but  at  all  events  a 
more  munificent  one.  Not  that  Francis  was 
inclined  to  be  sordid  in  his  awards  to  great  artists. 
He  was  liberally,  lavishly,  prodigally  disposed. 
But  other  expensive  tastes,  together  with  his 
wars,  made  heavy  demands  on  an  exchequer 
which,  notwithstanding  all  the  expedients  of 
Duprat's  fertile  brain  for  raising  money,  was  more 
frequently  empty  than  full. 

Francis  seems  to  have  been  startled  by  the 
unexpected  grandeur  of  the  Chateau  de  Moulins, 
and  the  regal  state  in  which  the  constable  lived 
in  the  chief  town  of  his  duchy  of  Bourbon.  This 
grand  old  ducal  palace— as  described  by  Nava- 
gero,*  who  visited  it  —  was  a  magnificent  edifice, 
in  the  style  of  a  fortress,  standing  on  an  eminence 
in  a  park  of  great  extent. 

*  The  Venetian  ambassador,  in  his  interesting  account  to  the 
Senate  of  his  journey  to  Paris. 


rARK  AND    GROUNDS   OF  MOULINS         117 

This  was  unusual ;  the  royal  chateaux  and  those 
of  the  nobility  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  cen- 
turies being  all,  or  nearly  so,  built  in  low  positions, 
because  of  the  suitableness  of  the  adjacent  for- 
ests for  the  enjoyment  of  the  chase.  The  chase 
alone  was  thought  of  —  the  landscape  was  of 
utter  indifference,  as  indeed  were  the  beauties  of 
nature  generally.  Moulins  was  at  this  time  sur- 
rounded by  fine  gardens  recently  laid  out  after 
the  Italian  manner,  with  terraces  and  fountains, 
and  many  trees  and  plants  newly  introduced  into 
France,  where  gardening,  though  its  progress 
was  slow,  was  then  becoming  an  art,  and  one 
believed  to  be  greatly  favoured  by  Francis  him- 
self. 

But  his  interest  in  it,  apparently,  had  been  less 
keen  than  that  of  the  constable ;  for  no  royal 
residence  had  yet  any  gardens  that  could  compare 
with  those  of  Moulins  —  the  work  of  skilled  hor- 
ticulturists who  had  accompanied  Bourbon  to 
France,  when  recalled  from  Milan.  In  the  park 
was  a  large  number  of  animals  and  birds,  and  in 
the  more  distant  part  of  the  domain,  left  wild  for 
the  chase,  "  partridges,  pheasants,  francolins  (a 
species  of  partridge,  but  of  larger  size),  and  other 
game  abounded  ;  as  well  as  turkeys  and  parrots  of 
different  kinds  "  (Navagero). 

When  the  royal  cavalcade  (all  journeys  being 
then  made  on  horseback),  followed  by  the  long 
train  of  litters  and  escort  of  archers,  had  passed 


Il8  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

the  castle  gates,  the  vista,  as  they  advanced, 
gradually  opening  before  them,  and  a  reminis- 
cence of  Italian  palaces  meeting  the  eager  gaze 
of  the  cavaliers,  no  gleam  of  pleasure  o'erspread 
the  young  monarch's  countenance.  Rather,  we 
are  told,  it  was  o'ershadowed  by  a  cloud  as  his 
magnificent  host,  attended  by  a  large  number  of 
the  gentlemen  of  his  household,  stood  ready  to 
receive  him  with  a  cordial  but  dignified  greeting. 

But  if  being  forestalled  in  the  laying  out  of  an 
Italian  garden  was  a  cause  of  displeasure  (Francis 
desiring  to  take  to  himself  the  credit  or  glory,  as 
it  might  be,  of  initiating  all  changes  or  improve- 
ments), still  more  so  was  Bourbon's  presumption 
in  founding  a  convent  at  Moulins  to  commemo- 
rate his  and  the  king's  victory  of  Marignan  —  that 
great  victory  which  deprived  the  Swiss  of  their 
boasted  title  of  "  Chastisers  of  kings." 

But  the  greatest  of  mortifications  to  the  much- 
tried  monarch  was  the  interior  splendour  of  the 
ducal  residence  and  the  pomp  with  which  its 
owner  had  surrounded  himself  and  his  young 
duchess.  No  royal  palace  then  equalled  the 
Chateau  de  Moulins,  or  even  approached  it,  in  the 
magnificence  of  its  decorations  and  furniture. 
"  It  was,"  says  the  Venetian,  "  in  every  respect  a 
sumptuous  and  suitable  abode  for  a  prince."  A 
further  advantage  being,  that  its  furniture  was 
intended  to  remain  permanently  there  —  not 
merely  for  temporary  use. 


A    ROYAL   DISH  OF   WINDSOR  BEANS      II9 

The  royal  palaces  at  that  period  were  furnished 
only  when  inhabited.  "  The  court,  like  an  itin- 
erant company  of  comedians,  carried  their  ward- 
robes, scenery,  and  properties  with  them."  * 
The  tapestries,  hangings,  ornamental  and  other 
furniture  travelled  with  the  royal  party,  and  were 
hastily  arranged  on  arrival,  and  packed  up  at 
short  notice  on  departure,  by  the  numerous  train 
of  servants,  f 

But  to  return  to  Moulins.  The  christening 
took  place  in  the  chapel  of  the  chateau,  draped 
for  the  occasion  with  velvet  and  gold  brocade 
from  Genoa  and  Venice  —  the  ceremony  being 
performed  with  all  possible  pomp,  ecclesiastical 
and  civil.  The  banquet  that  followed,  one  may 
be  sure,  was  worthy  of  both  host  and  guests. 
Italy,  Lorraine,  Flanders,  Normandy,  contributing 
to  it  their  special  delicacies  ;  even  England 
furnishing  a  dish  of  fine  Windsor  beans,  Milan 
supplying  the  parsley,  and  Vanvres  the  melted 
butter. 

Medoc  oysters  in  those  days,  as  still  the  custom, 

*  Paul  Lacroix  (Bibliophile  Jacob),  "  XVI^me  Siecle." 
t  "  This  practice  continued  for  upwards  of  a  century  later, 
even  until  Louis  XIV.  became  of  age.  For  at  the  time  of  the 
Fronde — 1648  to  1653  —  when  Anne  of  Austria  fled  from  Paris 
with  her  two  sons,  and  in  such  haste  that  she  could  carry  noth- 
ing with  her,  all  they  found  at  St.  Germain  was  the  shelter  of 
its  roof.  There  was  not  a  bed  for  either  the  queen  or  her  chil- 
dren, or  even  a  chair  to  rest  on." — "  Memoires  de  Mdme.  de 
Motteville." 


120  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

preceded  a  light  potage ;  and  at  a  banquet  of  so 
much  importance,  the  guests  being  persons  of 
high  distinction,  the  royal  sturgeon  would  then 
appear,  accompanied  by  the  turbot,  the  sword- 
fish  (dorado),  and  lampreys  from  Nantes.  Chief 
of  the  feathered  tribe  would  next  enter  —  the 
heron,  covered  with  powdered  sugar  and  spice, 
moistened  with  orange  -  juice  or  rose  -  water  —  "a 
dish,"  as  Liebout,  the  great  chef  of  that  time, 
declared  "fit  to  set  before  a  king."  But  the 
bittern  divided  honours  with  the  regal  heron, 
though  the  savour  of  its  flesh  could  hardly  be 
termed  savoury.  Yet  it  was  one  of  the  chiefest 
of  French  delicacies.  The  swan  and  peacock 
were  also  esteemed  most  exquisite  eating,  with 
olives,  capers,  and  acid  fruits. 

Pheasants,  red-legged  partridges,  and  the  little 
wild  gelinotte  — -  more  esteemed  than  the  pheasant 
itself,  which  it  somewhat  resembled — surrounded 
the  larger  birds  ;  dishes  of  Genoa  artichokes,  fresh 
peas,  and  Barbary  cucumbers,  intermingling  with 
them.  But  that  favourite  dish,  roast  sucking-pig, 
must  not  be  forgotten.  Like  other  roast  meats, 
it  was  parboiled  before  being  put  to  the  fire,  then 
stuffed  with  chopped  meats,  aromatic  herbs,  dried 
raisins  and  damson  plums. 

Several  kinds  of  salad  would  be  served.  That 
recommended  by  the  king's  physician  was  com- 
posed of  oranges,  lemons,  sugar,  and  sweet  herbs  ; 
another,  of  parsley  and   mint,  pepper,  cinnamon, 


SALADS  AND   FRUITS  121 

and  vinegar  ;  a  sort  of  seasoning  to  the  chopped 
livers  and  heads  of  boiled  poultry,  varied  at  times 
with  marsh-mallow  and  lettuce. 

The  desserts,  except  where  Italian  confectionery, 
ices,  sorbets,  etc.,  formed  part  of  them,  were  not 
famous ;  the  indigenous  fruits  being  small  and 
flavourless — wild  fruits,  in  fact  —  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  Corbeil  peaches  and  pears  of  Lor- 
raine—  fruit-culture  having  been  hitherto  wholly 
neglected.  The  plum  named  la  Reine  Claude, 
because  of  the  queen's  fondness  for  it,  had  been 
but  a  few  years  previously  brought  from  Italy.* 

As  it  was  the  season  for  late  summer  and  early 
autumn  fruits,  the  queen's  favourite  plums  would 
of  course  not  be  wanting  at  this  grand  banquet. 
Many  others,  not  here  enumerated,  would  also  have 
a  place  there,  as  well  as  poultry,  game,  fish,  and 
meat,  new  in  their  mode  of  preparation,  and  re- 
cently introduced  from  Italy  to  the  tables  of  the 
noble  and  wealthy  of  France. 

Such  a  repast,  with  its  appropriate  wines  and 
other  beverages,  such  as  Clairette  -  au-miel  (the 
white  wine  of  the  south  flavoured  with  honey 
or  made  golden  with  saffron),  Hypocras  -au  -vin 
d'  Espagne,  gooseberry  and  plum  wines,  iced  lem- 
onade and  champagne,  should  have  cleared  the 
clouds  from  the  young  monarch's  brow.  For  he 
was  fond  of  good  cheer,  and  with  his  favourite 
companions  could  throw  off  the  king,  return  jest 

*  Paul  Lacroix,  "  Vie  Privie  des  Francais  X  /"/•'""'  Steele." 


122  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

for  jest,  take  part  in  the  practical  jokes,  then  a 
source  of  so  much  amusement,  and  enjoy  himself 
heartily. 

But  now  he  is  ill  at  ease,  deeply  mortified  by  the 
splendour  displayed  to  do  him  honour,  revealing,  as 
it  does,  the  unwelcome  fact  which  before  he  seems 
not  to  have  realised,  that  the  surroundings  of  this 
great  feudal  prince  are  more  regal  than  those 
of  his  sovereign.  His  household  consists  of  five 
hundred  gentlemen,  who  wear  rich  velvet  dresses, 
with  massive  gold  chains  passing  three  times  round 
the  neck  and  depending  low  in  front.*  Succeed- 
ing each  other,  in  divisions  of  one  hundred  each, 
they  attend  on  the  royal  guests  in  the  noble  ban- 
queting hall  of  the  chateau  ;  where  youth  and 
beauty,  splendid  attire,  gold  and  jewels,  royalty 
and  high  rank,  make  up  a  grand  and  effective 
scene. 

But  the  hour  of  departure  has  arrived — a  relief 
no  doubt  to  many.  The  breaking  up  of  an  enter- 
tainment is  often,  as  it  was  on  this  occasion,  its 
most  cheery  moment.  The  health  of  the  heir  of 
the  House  of  Bourbon  had  been  pledged  at  the 
banquet  with  much  solemnity.  Now  blessings  on 
him  flow  glibly  from  every  tongue.  Even  good 
wishes  are  uttered  by  Louise  of  Savoy ;  though 
it  was  perhaps  at  this  moment  she  first  coveted, 
and  conceived  the  design  of  claiming,  the  vast 
wealth  and  extensive  possessions  the  baby  Comte 

*  Brantome,  Varillas,  Michelet. 


BLESSINGS  ON  THE  NEW-BORN  BABE     I  23 

de  Clermont  then  seemed  destined  to  inherit.* 
But  with  what  feelings  did  Francis  take  leave  of 
his  cousin  ?  Resentful  ones,  certainly.  Yet,  from 
the  natural  indolence  of  his  character,  and  his 
occasional  good  impulses,  they  would  probably 
have  been  evanescent,  had  not  the  promptings 
and  suggestions  of  his  unprincipled  mother  raised 
suspicions  in  his  mind  of  the  constable's  loyalty, 
and  urged  him  on  to  a  course  of  persecution,  of 
which  the  result  was  nearly  fatal  to  France. 

*  This  child,  whose  birth  caused  so  much  joy  to  his  parents, 
died  in  less  than  a  month  after  his  christening. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

An  Auspicious  Event. —  Matrimonial  Contracts.  —  Betrothal  of 
Princess  Mary.  —  Supping  with  My  Lord  of  York.  —  Grand 
and  Singular.  —  The  Youthful  Fiancee.  —  The  Daily  Bill  of 
Fare. — England  and  Bluff  King  Hal. —  Right  Good  Wine 
and  Supper. — -Receiving  the  Embassy.  —  Embracing  the 
Embassy.  —  Receiving  the  King's  Letters. — -A  Ball  at  the 
Bastille.  —  The  State  Dinner.  —  A  Puzzling  Costume.  —  A 
Supposed  Spurious  Dauphin.  —  Restitution  of  Tournay.  — 
The  Port  of  Havre  Founded.  —  A  Penitential  Procession. — 
A  Check  to  His  Holiness.  —  An  Honourable  Arrangement. 

>N  the  28th  of  February,  15 18,  an  heir  to 
the  throne  of  France  was  born  at  the 
Chateau  d'  Amboise.  This  auspicious 
event  was  celebrated  throughout  the  kingdom 
by  great  rejoicings  and  Tc  Deums  innumerable. 
Before  the  year  was  ended  general  festivity  was 
again  the  order  of  the  day  ;  Monsieur  le  Dauphin 
being  betrothed  to  Mary  of  England  —  born  in 
1 5 15  —  the  daughter  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Kath- 
arine of  Aragon. 

It  is  remarkable  how  frequent  at  that  period 
were  the  betrothals  of  infant  children  of  the  royal 
houses   of  Europe,   and  the  treaties  of    marriage 

124 


MATRIMONIAL    CONTRACTS  1 25 

entered  into  as  pledges  of  peace  and  amity,  when, 
exhausted  by  war,  breathing-time  was  needed  to 
prepare  for  fresh  encounters.  Rarely  indeed  did 
those  matrimonial  contracts  result  in  marriage. 
When  they  had  served  the  object  in  view,  the 
treaties  were  torn  up  and  war  was  renewed,  until 
the  failure  of  resources,  reverses  in  the  field,  or 
other  disasters  incidental  to  a  state  of  continual 
warfare,  again  made  betrothals  and  nuptial 
arrangements  necessary. 

The  young  King  of  Spain,  just  entering  his 
eighteenth  year,  had  already  been  several  times 
betrothed.  Once  more  he  was  free ;  absolved 
from  his  vows  by  the  death  of  his  fiancee,  the 
infant  Princesse  Louise  of  France.  Released  also 
from  the  further  observance  of  that  air  of  respect- 
ful and  filial  obedience  he  had  chosen  to  assume 
towards  Francis  —  the  prudent  youth  thus  veiling 
from  his  young  father-in-law  his  already  vast 
ambition.  Efforts  were  then  secretly  making  to 
secure  his  election  to  the  imperial  crown,  to  which 
Francis  himself,  as  secretly,  also  aspired. 

The  hand  of  his  cousin  Mary,  who  had  attained 
her  second  birthday  but  two  or  three  months 
before,  was  promised  to  Charles  ;  but  the  political 
situation  of  the  moment  made  the  baby  dauphin  a 
more  eligible  parti  —  consequently  preference  was 
given  to  him.  However,  Charles  had  not  long  to 
wait  for  his  turn,  other  turns  also  succeeding  it 
and  passing  away   with   a  like  result,  until,  seven 


126  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

years  after,  his  marriage  really  followed  his  be- 
trothal to  a  princess  with  an  immense  dowry  — 
Donna  Isabella,  daughter  of  Portugal's  great  king, 
Emanuel  "the  Fortunate."  But  the  little  Princess 
Mary,  in  spite  of  the  double  betrothal  and  the 
treaties  to  amity  that  bound  her  to  the  young 
dauphin,  and  afterwards  to  Charles  himself  (frail 
bonds,  indeed,  at  which  Fate  seemed  to  laugh,  just 
as  Love  —  though  in  a  somewhat  different  sense 
-  —  is  said  to  laugh  at  locksmiths),  was  destined  to 
wait  for  the  marriage  tie  some  thirty -five  years, 
or  more,  when  she  became  the  wife  of  Philip  of 
Spain,  Charles's  son. 

A  numerous  embassy,  of  which  Admiral  Bon- 
nivet  was  the  head,  as  the  representative  of  the 
dauphin,  was  sent  by  Francis  I.  to  England,  and 
was  received  by  Henry  VIII.  with  "exceeding 
courtesy,  and  entertained  with  great  sumptu- 
ousness." 

As  a  preliminary  to  the  ceremony  of  the  be- 
trothal and  the  gaieties  that  were  to  succeed  it, 
Henry,  attended  by  a  retinue  of  a  thousand 
mounted  gentlemen,  all  richly  dressed,  went  in 
procession,  on  Sunday,  the  3d  of  October,  from 
Durham  House,  in  the  Strand,  to  St.  Paul's. 
There,  mass  was  sung  by  Wolsey,  bishops,  and 
mitred  abbots  ;  after  which  the  king  took  his  oath, 
in  the  presence  of  the  legates  and  foreign  ambas- 
sadors. The  embassy,  with  a  large  company  of 
distinguished  guests,  dined  that  day  at  Greenwich ; 


SUPPING    WITH  MY  10 RD    OF    YORK      \2J 

but  the  king  appears  to  have  spent  at  least  the 
Sabbath  morning  in  more  retirement  than  the 
Frenchmen,  and  to  have  dined  in  privacy  with 
the  Bishop  of  London. 

After  the  Greenwich  dinner  the  whole  of  the 
company  followed  my  Lord  of  York  to  his  own 
house  at  Westminster,  where  a  sumptuous  supper 
awaited  them.  It  is  to  be  hoped  their  journey  to 
town  had  created  an  appetite,  and  that  no  less 
justice  was  done  to  the  various  delicacies  of  the 
evening  repast  than  to  the  substantial  viands  and 
other  dishes  of  the  midday  meal.  The  Venetian 
envoy,  Giustiniani,  who  was  present,  says  of  this 
second  banquet  :  "  The  like  of  it  was  never  given 
by  Cleopatra  or  Caligula  —  the  whole  banqueting- 
hall  being  so  decorated  with  huge  vases  of  gold 
and  silver,  that  I  fancied  myself  in  the  tower  of 
the  Persian  king,  Chosroes  the  Great,  where  that 
monarch  caused  divine  honours  to  be  paid  to 
him." 

However,  referring  generally  to  the  whole  day's 
proceedings,  from  the  procession  to  St.  Paul's, 
the  dinner  at  Greenwich,  the  evening  banquet 
at  Westminster,  to  the  grand  and  singular  enter- 
tainment that  unexpectedly  followed  it  (masking, 
mumming,  music  and  dancing,  gambling  with  dice 
—  bowls  full  of  ducats  being  provided  for  the 
gamblers  to  dip  into  —  playing  at  mumchance, 
procession  of  torchbearers,  etc.,  etc.,  all  the  per- 
formers being  dressed  in  fine   green   or   crimson 


128  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

satin  and  cloth  of  gold),  "it  was  altogether,"  says 
Bonnivet,  "too  magnificent  for  description."  * 

When  each  set  of  mummers,  minstrels,  or 
dancers  took  off  their  visors,  the  king  and  his 
sister  Mary,  the  dowager  Queen  of  France,  were 
always  found  to  have  taken  part  in  the  perform- 
ance, and  to  have  enjoyed  themselves  immensely. 
Queen  Katharine,  if  present,  shared  not  in  the 
diversions  of  the  court.  She  was  averse  to  the 
French  alliance,  preferring  that  which  offered 
the  remote  possibility  of  her  daughter  becoming 
Queen  of  Spain,  rather  than  of  France,  Spain's 
enemy. 

The  4th  of  October  seems  to  have  been  devoted 
to  the  signing  and  sealing  of  treaties.  On  the  5th 
the  betrothal  took  place  at  Greenwich. 

Mass  having  been  sung,  "  the  king  took  up  his 
station  in  front  of  the  throne.  On  one  side  stood 
Queen  Katharine  and  Mary,  the  duchess  -  queen  ; 
on  the  other,  the  two  legates  —  Wolsey  and  Cam- 
peggio.  The  princess,"  a  much  interested  and 
wondering  spectator  of  the  proceedings  generally, 
"  was  placed  in  front  of  her  mother.     Her  bridal 

*A11  that  relates  to  the  festivities  and  ceremonies  in  con- 
nection with  this  famous  embassy  has  been  very  minutely 
described  both  in  French  and  English  State  Papers,  as  well  as 
ably  summarized  in  Mr.  Brewer's  most  interesting  Introduction 
to  the  Calendar  of  the  Foreign  Series  of  Letters  and  Papers 
of  that  period.  He  mentions  that  the  details  of  the  entertain- 
ment following  Wolsey's  supper  may  have  suggested  to  Shake- 
speare the  scene  of  the  masked  ball  in  "  Romeo  and  Juliet." 


THE   DAILY  BILL    OF  FARE  1 29 

dress  was  of  cloth  of  gold,  with  a  cap  of  black 
velvet  on  her  head,  blazing  with  jewels.  The 
king  having  been  duly  harangued,  his  little 
daughter  was  lifted  up,  and  his  and  the  queen's 
consent  to  her  marriage  with  Francois,  the  Dau- 
phin of  France,  requested  and  granted.  Wolsey 
then  presented  the  Lord  Admiral  Bonnivet  with 
a  small  gold  ring,  of  suitable  size,  and  having  in  it 
a  large  and  valuable  diamond.  As  proxy  for  the 
bridegroom,  the  admiral  placed  the  ring  on  the 
young  bride's  finger,  and  pressed  it  over  the  second 
joint.  Prayer  and  a  blessing  followed  ;  the  cere- 
mony concluding  with  mass  in  the  royal  chapel, 
Wolsey  officiating,  and  the  king  and  queen,  with 
the  whole  of  the  court,  attending." 

During  the  rest  of  the  stay  of  the  embassy  in 
England  the  court  was  engaged  in  a  continual 
round  of  costly  entertainments,  mirth,  and  feast- 
ing. The  daily  bill  of  fare  is  simply  marvellous 
—  numberless  courses  of  "  beeves  and  muttons, 
porkers,  fat  hogs,  and  pigs,  fat  capons  and  Kent- 
ish capons,  chicks  and  pullets,  swans,  cranes,  pea- 
cocks, peachicks,  pigeons,  larks,  and  geese.  Three 
thousand  loaves  of  bread  (size  not  named),  with 
tuns  and  pipes  of  wine,  and  hogsheads  of  ale." 
Vegetables,  too,  there  must  have  been,  if  only  the 
famous  Windsor  beans  that  already  had  found 
their  way  to  the  royal  banquets  of  France  ;  but 
the  vegetables  are  not  mentioned  ;  neither  is  fish. 
The    dessert    consisted   of    prunes,   small   raisins, 


I30  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

dates,  and  almonds,  green  ginger,  pears,  apples, 
and  quinces ;  long  comfits  and  small  ones ;  no 
end  of  gallons  of  cream,  milk,  curd,  furmenty,  and 
dishes  of  butter. 

This  was,  truly,  an  unstinted  and  a  substantial 
banquet ;  perhaps  not  very  refined  in  its  cookery, 
yet  looking  grand  on  gold  and  silver  dishes.  It 
also  suited  the  gastronomic  taste  of  the  day,  and, 
as  is  recorded,  was  heartily  enjoyed  by  the  gentle- 
men who  had  been  "wrestling  and  tilting  "  all  the 
morning,  and  by  the  delighted  ladies  who  had  been 
looking  on  at  these  games,  and  dispensing  smiles 
as  rewards  to  the  most  skilful. 

At  the  balls  and  masques  which  followed  the 
evening  banquets,  Henry  and  Mary,  in  "high 
glee,"  led  off  all  the  dances,  and  were  the  most 
joyous  of  the  throng  of  "mummers,"  —  in  short, 
"the  oldest  inhabitant,"  tax  his  memory  as  he 
would,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  could  re- 
member nothing  like  these  general  rejoicings 
having  ever  before  happened  in  England. 

But  these  gay  doings  having  lasted  a  week,  the 
Frenchmen  were  compelled  to  bid  merry  England 
and  its  "bluff  King  Hal"  farewell,  carrying  away 
with  them  the  most  favourable  impressions  of 
both.  A  valuable  present  was  made  by  Henry 
to  each  member  of  the  embassy,  for  which  mark 
of  his  "  royal  favour  and  good-will  Admiral  Bonni- 
vet  and  the  lords  of  France  did  heartily  thank  the 
king,  also  for  the  disport  with  which  it  had  pleased 


RIGHT  GOOD    WINE   AND   SUPPER  131 

him  to  visit  them."  Henry,  in  replying,  expressed 
the  "anxious  pleasure  with  which  he  looked  forward 
to  a  meeting  with  Francis  I." 

Queen  Katharine  alone  seems  to  have  taken  no 
interest  in  the  festivities  into  which  her  husband 
and  sister-in-law  entered  with  so  much  zest.  She 
was  by  no  means  the  dignified  personage  gener- 
ally imagined  and  poets  have  depicted  her.  On 
the  contrary,  she  was  of  low  stature,  and  very 
thin.  Her  complexion  was  swarthy,  and  her  fea- 
tures plain  —  as  described  by  one  of  those  diligent 
Venetian  ambassadors  who  kept  the  "potent, 
grave,  and  reverend  seigniors  "  of  the  Senate  of 
Venice  so  well  informed  of  the  characters,  the 
personal  appearance,  and  doings  of  the  chief 
personages  of  the  courts  to  which  they  were 
accredited. 

In  the  month  following  the  departure  of  the 
French  (November)  an  English  embassy,  headed 
by  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  was  despatched  by 
Henry  VIII.  to  France.  The  earl  was  accom- 
panied by  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  the  Prior  of  St. 
John's,  Sir  Nicholas  Vaux,  and  a  numerous  retinue 
of  attendants. 

In  acknowledgment  of  the  splendid  reception 
the  French  had  met  with  in  England,  "  Lord 
Worcester's  embassy,  on  landing  at  Boulogne, 
after  a  stormy  passage,  was  received  with  shoot- 
ing of  guns,  and  lodged  in  the  castle,  whence  M. 
de  La  Fayette  attended  my  lord  and  his  gentle- 


132  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

men  to  Abbeville,  where  three  puncheons  of  wine 
and  a  right  good  supper  were  offered  them."  The 
same  courteous  attention  was  repeated  at  every 
town  on  the  route  to  Paris  —  an  unfailing  supply 
of  "right  good  wine"  accompanying  the  "right 
good  feasts."  As  Mr.  Brewer  remarks,  "their 
new  continental  friends  seem  to  have  been  fully 
aware  of  the  national  infirmity." 

A  league  from  Paris,  a  hundred  gentlemen  of 
the  king's  household,  accompanied  by  a  bishop, 
received  the  embassy.  The  provosts  and  mer- 
chants of  Paris  awaited  them  in  the  faubourg. 
"  On  their  way  to  the  capital  they  were  met  by 
divers  gentlemen  in  masks,  amongst  whom  the 
king  was  surely  supposed  to  be."^(rThe  first  audi- 
ence took  place  on  the  1 2th  of  November,  at  the 
Palais  des  Tournelles.  *  There,  "  in  a  very  great 
chamber,  appointed  with  blue  hangings  full  of 
fieur -dc-Iys,  the  floor  covered  with  the  same  in 
blue  tiles,  and  seats  prepared  round  for  the  noble- 
men, closed  round  about  with  rails,  the  king  him- 
self sate,  in  a  chair  raised  four  steps  from  the 
ground,  under  a  rich  cloth  of  estate,  with  a  pall 
of  cloth  of  gold,  and  a  curtain  of  the  same  under 
his  feet." 

Francis  wore  a  robe  of  cloth  of  silver  em- 
broidered with  flowers  and  lined  with  heron's 
feathers.  His  doublet  was  of  cloth  of  gold ;  but 
his  cap  was  only  his  ordinary  one  of  cloth  with 
feather-edging.      Under  a  satin  and  gold  canopy, 


EMBRACING    THE   EMBASSY  I  33 

on  his  right,  were  seated  the  Roman  legate,  the 
King  of  Navarre,  and  the  Dues  d'  Alenc,on  and  de 
Bourbon.  On  his  left  were  four  cardinals,  the  papal 
nuncio,  the  Chancellor  Duprat,  and  several  bishops. 

All  the  assistants  in  this  grand  scene  having 
taken  their  seats,  "  two  hundred  gentlemen  carry- 
ing battle-axes  conducted  the  English  envoys  into 
the  royal  presence."  They,  too,  were  arrayed  with 
due  splendour  for  the  occasion.  "  The  earl  wore 
a  robe  of  crimson  satin  lined  with  sables  ;  Sir 
Nicholas  wore  cloth  of  gold  similarly  lined.  Ely 
appeared  in  his  rochet  ;  the  lord  of  St.  John's  in 
black  satin.  Twenty  English  gentlemen  followed, 
in  cloth  of  gold  and  sables,  jewelled  pendants  in 
their  bonnets,  and  massive  gold  chains,  studded 
with  jewels,  round  their  necks  and  waists." 

"On  their  reaching  the  centre  of  the  dais,  the 
king  rose,  descended  the  steps,  embraced  the  earl 
and  members  of  the  embassy,  and  bade  them  be 
seated.  Then  West  (Bishop  of  Ely)  rose  to  deliver 
his  Latin  oration,  which  was  much  commended 
for  good  emphasis  and  discretion,  also  for  bold- 
ness of  spirit  and  audacity." 

The  oration  ended,  the  king  again  left  his  seat 
and  "embraced  the  English  gentlemen,"  in  return 
for  a  similar  compliment  paid  by  Henry  VIII.  to 
the  French  gentlemen  accompanying  the  embassy. 
Francis,  with  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  then  with- 
drew. Closeted  with  the  ambassador,  he  assured 
him  of   his   great   satisfaction   at  the   peace   just 


134  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

concluded,  adding  that  "  henceforth  he  would 
repute  himself  and  his  subjects  Englishmen,  and 
the  king's  grace  and  his  subjects  Frenchmen  ; 
and  that  it  might  so  appear  he  would  endeavour 
to  learn  the  English  language." 

The  ambassador  then  presented  Henry's  letters. 
Francis  received  them  as  though  he  imagined  the 
earl  had  brought  him  a  lady's  perfumed  billet-doux. 
He  raised  them  to  his  lips,  read  them  with  a  sort 
of  eager  pleasure,  then  placed  them  in  his  bosom, 
saying  that  "  all  the  letters  that  ever  his  grace 
had  sent  him  he  had  in  his  own  custody  and 
keeping,  and  in  like  manner  he  would  keep  these 
present  ones."  The  great  courtesy  of  the  "cheva- 
lier king,"  "  the  best  bred  gentleman  in  Europe," 
"pleased  the  English  envoys  mightily." 

As  in  England  at  St.  Paul's,  so  in  Paris  at 
Notre  Dame,  the  king,  after  a  grand  mass,  made 
a  solemn  oath  at  the  high  altar  —  a  cardinal  hold- 
ing the  book,  and  the  legate  standing  before  the 
king  while  he  signed  it.  The  legate's  blessing, 
"with  pleasing  indulgence,"  followed;  the  legate 
then  saying  to  the  king,  "  Sire,  ye  have  done  a 
noble  act  to-day."  "By  my  faith,"  he  replied,  "  I 
have  done  it  with  a  right  good  heart  and  good 
will."  Thus  concluded  the  religious  ceremony ; 
the  envoys  and  the  English  gentlemen,  on  leaving 
the  church,  repairing  to  the  archiepiscopal  palace 
to  dine  with  the  archbishop,  who  gave  them  "a 
stately  banquet  served  solely  on  gold  plate." 


A   BALL   AT  THE  BASTILLE  1 35 

The  entertainment  of  the  evening  was  a  no  less 
stately  supper,  given  by  a  stately  host,  yet  courte- 
ous and  genial  as  "the  best  bred  gentleman"  him- 
self, and  in  many  qualities  of  mind  and  person 
far  surpassing  him  —  the  constable  Charles  de 
Bourbon. 

Twelve  days  of  unceasing  amusement  and 
"right  good  feasting"  were  brought  to  a  close 
by  a  brilliant  ball  at  the  Bastille  —  probably  the 
only  one  that  ever  took  place  there,  until  the  peo- 
ple, in  1789,  joyously  held  their  public  dances  on 
the  ruins  of  that  gloomy  stronghold  of  sinister 
renown.  The  inner  courtyard  was  chosen  for  the 
occasion,  and  "  covered  in  with  blue  canvas,  pow- 
dered over  with  gilt  stars  to  represent  the 
heavens."  Over  the  canvas  smooth  timber  was 
laid  to  keep  out  cold  and  rain.  The  royal  colours, 
white  and  tawney,  were  festooned  along  the  gal- 
leries erected  round  the  ball  -  room,  which  were 
provided  with  benches  covered  with  cloth  of  gold. 
The  floor  was  also  of  laid  boards,  carpeted.  "  An 
immense  chandelier  hung  from  the  centre,  throw- 
ing such  a  marvellous  blaze  of  light  on  the  starry 
ceiling  as  to  rival  the  sun.  Over-arching  a  dai's 
or  platform  was  a  latticed  bower  of  box,  ivy,  and 
other  evergreens,  with  roses  and  various  kinds  of 
flowers  trailing  over  it." 

"  The  ball  was  preceded  by  a  dinner.  A 
flourish  of  trumpets  having  announced  that  it  was 
time  to   wash    hands   and  a    second  flourish   that 


136  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

dinner  was  served,  the  king  entered,  and  took  his 
seat  on  the  platform,  having  on  his  left  his  sister, 
the  Duchesse  d'  Alencon,  and  next  her  the  Bishop 
of  Ely" — probably  because  she  was  able  to  con- 
verse a  little  with  him  in  Latin.  "  On  the  king's 
right  was  the  legate  with  the  beautiful  Comtesse 
Bissonne,  and  next  her  the  Earl  of  Worcester, 
then  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  court  alternately ; 
the  gentlemen  of  the  embassy  dining  at  tables  on 
the  floor  below  the  platform." 

Doubtless  the  hospitable  board  of  the  sovereign 
of  France  was  as  amply  spread  as  that  of  Henry 
VIII.  of  England,  but  posterity  has  not  been 
favoured  with  the  bill  of  fare.  It  is,  however, 
highly  probable  that,  besides  the  more  substantial 
viands,  many  productions  of  the  Italian  cuisine 
were  served  at  the  royal  table,  prepared  from  the 
same  recipes  as  those  choice  dishes  that  figured 
with  eclat  at  the  luxurious  repasts  of  which 
Francis  had  partaken  with  Leo  X.  The  "  Bour- 
geois de  Paris"  says  that  "such  an  expenditure  in 
eating  and  drinking  and  fine  clothing  had  hardly 
ever  been  known  in  France." 

The  "heraldic  dishes,"  one  may  feel  sure,  would 
not  be  wanting,  it  being  the  general  custom  in  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  when  enter- 
taining distinguished  guests,  to  arrange  the  prin- 
cipal dishes  of  the  dessert,  pastry  or  fruit,  so  as 
to  form  the  coats-of-arms  of  those  it  was  desired  to 
honour.     Apricots  represented  the  or,  or  gold  of 


A    PUZZLING    COSTUME  1 37 

heraldry ;  damask  plums,  azure  ;  cherries  and  rasp- 
berries, gules,  or  red  ;  the  Reine  Claude  plum, 
vert,  and  so  on  for  the  rest  of  the  colours  and 
metals.* 

After  dinner,  dancing  began,  to  the  sound  of 
trumpets  and  fifes,  and  continued  until  nine  o'clock, 
when  the  guests  were  invited  to  leave  the  mazy 
dance  for  a  while  to  partake  of  a  grand  supper 
served  on  gold  and  silver  dishes.  Having  refreshed 
themselves,  the  entertainment  was  varied  by  the 
entrance  of  "  several  companies  of  maskers  in 
quaint  costumes,  last  of  whom  came  the  king  in  a 
long,  close-fitting  dress  of  white  satin  (intended  to 
represent  Christ's  robe),  embroidered  in  gold,  with 
compasses  and  dials,  the  meaning  of  which  much 
puzzled  the  spectators."  Dancing  was  resumed 
when  the  masquerading  ended,  and  the  whole  con- 
cluded long  after  midnight,  by  ladies  handing 
round  to  all  the  company  confectionery  and  bon- 
bons in  silver  dishes,  f 

Neither  Madame  Louise  of  Savoy  nor  the  queen 
appears  to  have  been  present  at  these  bridal  cere- 
monies and  festivities.  The  young  dauphin  also 
bore  no  part  in  them.  They  were  regarded  as 
sealing  the  ceremony  of  betrothal  that  had  taken 
place  at  Greenwich.  The  dauphin  was  at  Blois, 
and  it  was  announced  that  he  was  in  good  health. 

*  Louis  Loiseleur,  "  Chateaux  royaux  de  France." 
t  This  grand  entertainment  is  said  to  have  cost  the  king  more 
than  450,000  gold  crowns  —  ^160,000. 


I38  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

But  an  idea  prevailed,  or,  as  the  "State  Papers" 
express  it,  "  the  fame  went,  that  the  king  at  this 
time  had  no  son."  The  Bishop  of  Ely  and  other 
members  of  the  embassy  accepted  the  invitation  to 
visit  him  at  Cognac,  "  where  they  were  shewn  a 
fair  young  child,  and  when  they  had  seen  him  they 
departed  ;  but  this  was  believed  to  be  but  a  colour 
of  the  French  king."     ("State  Papers.") 

On  the  same  day  —  4th  of  October,  15 18  —  that 
the  marriage  contract  of  the  Princess  Mary  to  the 
dauphin  —  pledge  and  seal  of  the  reconciliation  of 
the  two  countries  — ■  was  signed  at  Greenwich,  an- 
other contract,  far  more  important  to  France,  was 
also  signed.  By  it,  Tournay,  taken  by  the  Eng- 
lish in  15  13,  was  restored  to  the  French  on  pay- 
ment of  an  indemnity  of  600,000  gold  crowns 
(.£88,000)  for  the  sums  expended  on  its  fortifi- 
cations. 

Since  the  battle  of  Marignan,  England  and 
France  had  not  been  on  good  terms,  Henry  VIII. 
being  extremely  jealous  of  the  successes  of  Francis 
I.  in  Italy.  The  more  so  as  he  had  strongly 
urged  him  against  undertaking  a  war  which, 
while  he  was  looking,  and  no  doubt  hoping,  for  its 
failure,  had  ended  in  victory.  Henry  then  joined 
the  league  against  him ;  but  after  the  general 
peace,  Francis  I.  having  made  frequent  friendly 
advances  towards  the  English  king  —  through 
Wolsey,  of  course,  whose  good  offices,  by  presents 


THE   PORT  OF  HAVRE   FOUNDED  1 39 

and  promises,  it  is  said,  he  succeeded  in  gaining  — 
the  acrimony  of  Henry's  feelings  towards  France 
abated. 

Wolsey  convinced  his  highness  that  Tournay 
was  a  possession  of  no  value  to  England,  yet  in- 
volving vast  expenditure  to  retain.  This,  together 
with  Francis  I.'s  timely  recall  of  the  Duke  of 
Albany  from  Scotland,  whereby  preponderance  of 
French  influence  in  that  country  was  withdrawn, 
brought  the  affair  of  Tournay  to  a  successful  issue. 
The  real  motive,  however,  of  Francis  I.'s  courteous 
advances  to  Henry  VIII.,  and  his  liberality  and 
complaisance  towards  his  all  -  powerful  minister, 
was  to  obtain  the  restitution  of  Calais.  But  of 
this  no  question  could  for  a  moment  be  enter- 
tained. Calais  was  not  to  be  given  up,  but  recon- 
quered, and  the  glory  of  that  conquest  was  not 
destined  for  Francis  I. 

Yet,  so  diligently  did  he  then  visit  and  inspect 
the  northern  seaports  of  France,  that  it  would 
almost  seem  that  a  fresh  invasion  of  the  king- 
dom was  expected,  notwithstanding  the  renewal  of 
friendly  relations  with  England,  the  betrothal,  and 
the  sumptuous  fetes.  It  was  then  that  the  port 
of  Havre  was  founded,  and  orders  given  for  forti- 
fying the  adjacent  village  of  Havre  -  de  -  Grace. 
Probably  it  was  then  the  king's  intention  to  build 
ships  of  war,  as  Seyssel  and  others  strongly  urged 
him  ;  for,  although  there  was  a  grand  admiral  of 
France,  there  was  really  no  navy  to  command.     If 


I40  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

ships  were  wanted,  merchantmen  were  hired  ;  a 
few  small  vessels,  scarcely  larger  than  fishing- 
boats,  forming  the  only  fleet  which  that  spacious 
harbour  in  course  of  construction  was  likely  for 
years  to  come  to  give  shelter. 

The  navy  of  England  at  that  time  was  hardly 
more  formidable  than  that  of  France.  Warlike 
demonstrations  by  sea  could,  therefore,  only  be 
looming  in  the  far-distant  future ;  besides,  war,  or 
the  prospect  of  it,  in  another  direction  then  occu- 
pied the  attention  of  Europe. 

At  the  solicitation  of  the  Pope,  the  four  great 
Western  Powers  —  Austria,  Spain,  England  and 
France  —  had  recently  bound  themselves  by 
treaty  to  unite  their  forces,  in  order  to  oppose  the 
advance  of  the  sultan,  Selim  I.,  who  threatened 
to  ravage  Italy.  That  powerful  Ottoman  ruler 
had  usurped  the  throne  of  his  father  after  murder- 
ing him  and  his  brothers.  His  ferocious  disposi- 
tion and  religious  fanaticism  increased  the  terror 
he  already  inspired  by  his  genius  for  war  and  his 
numerous  conquests.  Persian  provinces  had 
yielded  to  him  ;  Syria  and  Egypt  were  con- 
quered, and  a  band  of  Turkish  pirates  at  Algiers 
now  menaced  the  Spanish  settlements  on  the 
African  coast  with  speedy  ruin.  The  Italian 
States  were  in  great  alarm  ;  and  Venice,  whose 
commerce,  the  source  of  her  great  prosperity, 
was  drawing  to  an  end,  made  then  some  vain 
attempts,  in  order  to  avert  that  calamity,  to  check 


A   PENITENTIAL    PROCESSION  141 

the  progress  of  the  Portuguese,  whose  flag  now 
waved  along  all  the  coast  of  Hindostan. 

Violently  indeed,  both  mentally  and  bodily, 
must  Italy  generally  have  been  agitated  by  Se- 
lim's  terror-exciting  name,  when  consternation  so 
prevailed  in  the  Vatican  that  a  voluptuary,  such 
as  was  Leo  X.,  was  induced  to  put  aside  for  even 
a  brief  space  the  licentious  pleasures  for  which 
alone  he  seemed  to  live,  and  at  the  head  of  a 
penitential  procession  to  walk  through  Rome 
barefoot. 

Its  object  was,  first,  to  implore  in  this  dilemma 
the  protection  and  aid  of  the  Mother  of  God,  and 
the  holy  saints ;  secondly,  by  the  moving  spec- 
tacle of  the  holy  pontiff's  self-abasement,  to 
inspire  languid  Christendom  with  pious  zeal 
liberally  to  contribute  towards  the  expenses  of  a 
contemplated  crusade  against  the  unbelievers. 
The  clergy  were  asked  for  a  tithe  of  their  in- 
come, and  the  traffic  in  Indulgences — against 
which  the  great  reformer  was  already  loudly  lift- 
ing up  his  voice  —  was  pushed  forward  with  great 
vigour.  The  Germanic  Diet  of  Augsburg  were 
required  by  the  Pope  to  furnish  a  large  subsidy 
for  the  same  pious  purpose.  Soon  after,  it 
became  known  that  a  raid  on  Italy  formed  no 
part,  at  least  for  the  present,  of  Selim's  military 
programme,  and  the  idea  of  a  crusade  conse- 
quently was  abandoned.  The  subsidy  was  still 
demanded,    but    for    offensive  warfare.       It    was, 


142  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

however,  refused,  with  many  complaints  of  the 
papal  rapacity,  —  a  check  to  his  holiness  from  an 
unexpected  quarter. 

Of  the  large  sum  of  money  then  extorted  from 
the  inferior  clergy  and  the  people,  the  greater 
part  found  its  way  into  the  coffers  of  the  Pope. 
The  sovereigns  who  had  promised  to  aid  his 
holiness  had  their  share,  but  Francis  was  most 
benefited  by  it  —  Leo  ceding  to  him  the  tithe 
imposed  on  the  French  clergy,  in  consideration 
of  the  suppression  of  certain  articles  of  the  treaty 
of  Bologna.  This  honourable  arrangement  in  no 
way  affected  the  interests  of  the  "chevalier  king," 
but  merely  was  prejudicial  to  those  of  his  friend 
and  ally,  the  Duke  of  Ferrara,  who  lost  by  it 
his  cities  of  Reggio  and  Modena,  which  the  Pope 
had  bound  himself  by  the  above-named  treaty  to 
restore  to  him. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A  Coffin  in  Case  of  Need.  —  The  Imperial  Crown.  —  Reviving 
the  Augustan  Age.  —  The  Royal  College  of  France. — ■ 
The  Crowing  of  the  Cock.  —  Full  of  Thorns  and  Vipers. — 
Erasmus  and  Voltaire. —  Brother  Martin  Luther.  —  The 
Sale  of  Indulgences.  —  Under  the  Ban  of  the  Church. — 
The  Germanic  Diet.  —  He  Stands  Erect!  —  Sensation!  — A 
Learned  Dominican. — -Retract,  My  Friend,  Retract. — 
Luther  Escapes  from  Augsburg.  —  Saved  for  the  Present. 
—  Conciliating  the  Elector. 

ROM  the  end  of  1516  to  the  close  of 
1 5 1 8,  France  and  the  other  Euro- 
pean Powers  had  been  free  from  actual 
war,  if  not  wholly  from  war's  alarms.  This  inter- 
val of  peace  had  been  diligently  employed  both 
by  Francis  I.  and  the  young  King  of  Spain  in 
secret  intrigues  to  secure  each  his  own  election 
to  the  imperial  throne,  and  to  thwart  that  of  his 
rival.  The  Emperor  Maximilian,  then  in  failing 
health,  and  carrying  his  coffin  about  with  him  in 
case  he  should  want  it  when  on  a  journey,  yet 
was  sufficiently  well  to  devote  himself,  with 
energy  unusual  to  him,  to  the  furtherance  of  his 
grandson's  interests.  But  in  this,  as  in  all  other 
projects  the  emperor  had  ever  taken   part  in,  his 

M3 


144  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

first  demand  was  for  money,  and  an  unstinted 
supply  of  it. 

Charles  himself  was  then  but  scantily  supplied 
with  money,  both  his  Dutch  and  Spanish  sub- 
jects refusing  to  furnish  the  sums  he  needed. 
Maximilian,  in  this  dilemma,  turned  towards 
Henry  VIII.,  holding  up  the  imperial  crown  as  a 
lure.  But  Henry,  whose  treasury  was  far  from 
being  so  empty  as  were  the  coffers  of  the  young 
monarchs  of  France  and  Spain,  yet  declined  — 
though  he,  too,  had  aspirations  in  the  same  direc- 
tion —  to  confide  his  gold  crowns  and  angels  to 
the  spendthrift  Maximilian. 

Charles,  meanwhile,  promised  and  forwarded  to 
him  100,000  gold  ducats  for  bribing,  where  neces- 
sary, desiring  his  grandfather  to  dispose  of  it  with 
economy.  Maximilian  then  gave  his  sole  atten- 
tion to  the  promoting  of  Charles's  candidature,  for 
which,  however,  a  further  remittance  of  ducats 
was  soon  requested. 

While  these  intrigues  and  counter  intrigues 
were  still  going  on — the  balance  sometimes 
inclining  towards  France,  at  others  towards 
Spain,  according  to  the  amount  of  cash  each 
actually  expended,  and  the  value  of  pensions 
promised*!^-  Francis  was  aiming  also  at  other 
honours. 

The  savants  who  at  that  period  enjoyed  the 
highest  distinction  were  the  philologists.  The 
study  of  the  classic  languages  and  literature  was 


REVIVING    THE   AUGUSTAN  AGE  1 45 

making  great  progress  in  France ;  so  much  so 
that  even  the  court,  whose  latest  literary  affecta- 
tion was  the  expression  of  their  feelings  and  sen- 
timents in  verse  —  more  frequently  puerile  than 
felicitious  —  now  seemed  fired  with  the  noble 
ambition  of  making  Latin  the  language  of  the 
court  ;  thus,  in  their  avidity  for  literary  celebrity, 
in  some  sort  reviving  the  Augustan  age  in  the 
reign  of  Francis  I. 

Chivalric  courtiers  and  (quoting  Brantome) 
"elegant  courtesans"  proposed  to  vary  their 
licentious  amusements  by  the  study  of  the  Latin 
language.  Probably  Greek  would  have  followed, 
had  the  scheme  been  fully  carried  out.  But  the 
studious  fit  was  of  short  duration.  Yet  while  it 
lasted  the  naive  and  piquant,  though  rather  liber- 
tine, love-ditties  of  the  poet  par  excellence  of  that 
depraved  court,  Clement  Marot,  did  indeed  suffer 
a  partial  eclipse. 

Francis,  too,  put  aside  his  rhymes  and  his  son- 
nets to  ladies'  eyes  ;  and,  aspiring  to  the  glory 
he  saw  redounded  on  those  princes  who  favoured 
the  study  of  the  ancient  languages  and  literature, 
determined  to  adopt  the  suggestion  of  the  distin- 
guished philologist,  Guillaume  Bude,  to  found  a 
college  in  Paris  for  the  study  of  Hebrew,  Greek, 
and  Latin,  on  the  plan  of  that  recently  organised 
at  Louvain  by  Erasmus.* 

*  To  this  barren  project — barren  so  far  as  he  was  concerned 
—  Francis    mainly    owed    the    epithet    applied   to    him    of    the 


146  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

It  was  to  be  called  the  "  Royal  College  of 
France,"  or  "  College  of  the  Three  Languages," 
and  was  to  be  built  on  the  site  then  occupied  by 
the  Hotel  de  Nesle.  Accommodation  was  to  be 
provided  for  six  hundred  students,  and  the  endow- 
ment was  to  be  a  yearly  rente  of  50,000  crowns. 
For  nearly  two  years  Francis  I.  continued  persist- 
ently to  renew  the  offer  of  the  presidency,  or 
direction,  of  this  projected  college  to  the  distin- 
guished savant  Erasmus,  though  the  Parisian 
Bude,  esteemed  the  most  profoundly  erudite  of 
the  learned  men  of  his  day,  might  be  considered 
to  have  had  a  prior  claim  to  it.  Bude,  however, 
added  his  solicitations  to  those  of  the  king ;  but 
Erasmus,  after  long  hesitation,  finally  declined  the 
proffered  honour. 

Years  went  on,  but  no  steps  were  taken  for 
commencing  the  building  of  the  projected  college. 
The  professors  of  the  three  languages  were  not 
even  appointed  until  1530,  and  then  no  residence 
was  either  ready  or  in  course  of  construction  for 
them.  No  hall  or  room,  temporarily  or  otherwise, 
was  assigned  to  them  for  lectures  or  lessons,  and 
no  salary  assured  to  the  professors. 

"  Father  of  letters ;  "  while  the  choice  he  made  of  illustrious 
savants  for  his  diplomatists,  if  it  did  not  always  further  his 
political  interests,  contributed  to  spread  his  reputation  as  a  pro- 
tector or  patron  of  learning.  It  was  thus,  at  that  moment  of 
ardour  for  the  revival  of  learning,  that  the  princes,  great  and 
small,  of  Italy,  Germany,  and  France,  hoped  to  immortalise 
themselves. 


THE    CROWING    OF   THE    COCK  1 47 

The  first  Greek  professor  was  Pierre  Danes,  of 
the  College  of  Navarre,  whose  learned  writings  in 
Hebrew  and  Greek  obtained  him  less  celebrity 
than  a  happy  mot  when  ambassador  at  the  Coun- 
cil of  Trent.  A  French  orator  was  declaiming 
against  the  lax  morality  of  the  Court  of  Rome, 
when  the  Bishop  of  Orvieto  exclaimed  contemptu- 
ously, "  Gallus  cantat"  - — It  is  but  a  cock  that's 
crowing.  Danes  immediately  replied,  "  Utinam 
ad  galli  cantum  Petrus  rcsipisccrct"  —  Would  to 
heaven  that  at  this  crowing  of  this  cock  Peter 
might  repent! — gallus  signifying  both  "cock," 
and  "  Frenchman."  Two  or  three  years  later, 
three  other  professorial  chairs  (mathematics,  phi- 
losophy, and  medicine)  were  added  ;  conditions  as 
to  dwelling,  students'  hall,  and  salary,  remaining 
the  same. 

In  1539  Francis  approved  the  arrangements 
then  made  for  the  erection  of  the  college  —  all 
that  was  wanting  being  the  issue  of  his  order  to 
begin.  Eight  years  after,  1547,  when  Francis 
died,  the  order  had  not  been  given  ;  and  the  first 
stone  of  "the  noble  institution,"  about  which  the 
"Father  of  letters"  had  once  seemed  so  eager, 
and  continued,  though  with  abated  interest,  to 
talk  through  the  whole  of  his  reign,  was  not  laid 
until  1610,  sixty -three  years  after  his  death,  by 
Louis  XIII. 

One  cause  of  the  delay  has  been  suggested  as 
probable — the    opposition   of  the   priests   to   the 


148  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

introduction  of  the  study  of  the  dead  languages 
and  the  sacred  books  into  the  schools.  It  was 
denounced  by  them  as  verging  on  sacrilege,  and 
from  the  pulpit  "the  newly-discovered  language, 
called  Greek,"  was  declared  to  be  one  to  be  "care- 
fully guarded  against,  as  giving  birth  to  all  the 
heresies ; "  while  the  book  written  in  that  lan- 
guage, and  called  the  "  New  Testament,"  which 
the  enlighted  priest,  to  whom  this  warning  to  his 
flock  is  attributed,  "  saw  with  pain  in  the  hands  of 
many  persons,"  was  described,  with  picturesque 
eloquence,  as  "a  book  full  of  thorns  and  vipers." 
As  to  Hebrew,  all  who  learned  it,  he  informed  his 
terror-stricken  (as  one  may  imagine)  congregation, 
"immediately  became  Jews."  * 

Bitter  warfare  had  recently  broken  out  between 
learned  laymen  and  the  monks.  Portions  of  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  Scriptures  had  been  translated 
and  freely  commented  upon.  Reuchlin,  the  cele- 
brated legist  and  Hebrew  scholar,  after  correcting 
the  Latin  Vulgate,  had  published  a  Hebrew  gram- 
mar and  dictionary ;  thus  "  opening,"  as  Merle 
d'Aubigne  says,  "the  long-closed  books  of  the 
Ancient  Alliance."  f 

Other  writers  had  also  begun  closely  to  scruti- 
nise the  origin  of  all  authority,  whether  ecclesiasti- 
cal or  laic;  while  "the  great  Erasmus,  with 
liveliness  and  sparkling  fancy,  had  already  nearly 

*  Sismondi,  "  Histoire  dcs  Francois." 
t  "  Histoire  de  la  Reformation.'1'' 


ERASMUS  AND    VOLTAIRE  1 49 

exhausted  every  form  of  ridicule  on  the  frock  and 
the  cowl,  and  the  superstitions  of  the  age,"  in  his 
"  Dialogues,"  his  "  Eloge  de  la  Folie,"  and  numer- 
ous pamphlets  and  sketches  —  his  raillery  and 
oblique  censures  preparing  the  way  for  Luther's 
more  violent  invectives  and  more  direct  attacks. 
"  One  cannot  help  being  struck  by  the  analogy 
this  period  of  the  Renaissance  offers  with  the 
eighteenth  century,"  writes  M.  Henri  Martin; 
"Erasmus  is  its  Voltaire." 

But  Truth,  in  the  person  of  Luther,  had  at  last 
raised  her  head  in  the  very  centre  of  Christendom, 
and,  victorious  over  the  inferior  agents  of  the 
papacy,  was  about  to  enter  the  lists  with  Rome's 
pontiff  himself.  When  Luther's  theses  were  first 
published,  Leo  X.,  overlooking  the  severe  truths 
they  contained,  found  them  very  diverting,  and, 
judging  them  rather  as  the  friend  of  letters  than 
as  Pope,  pronounced  Brother  Martin  Luther  a 
man  of  fine  genius,  and  all  that  was  said  against 
him  but  the  suggestions  of  monkish  jealousy. 
Frequently,  when  urged  to  take  cognisance  of  the 
heretical  preaching  and  teaching  of  "  the  monk  of 
Wittemberg,"  he  would  merely,  with  a  shrug  of 
the  shoulders,  reply,  "  Monkish  quarrels." 

The  priesthood  generally,  notwithstanding  the 
indifference  of  the  Pope,  were  greatly  alarmed  at 
the  rapid  spread  of  Luther's  opinions,  and  by 
means  of  that  art  whose  invention  was  ascribed 
by  monks  to  the  devil  —  the  art  of  printing.     The 


150  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

progress  of  religious  reform  would  certainly  have 
been  long  retarded,  but  for  the  timely  invention, 
or  rather  perfecting,  of  printing.  The  power  of 
the  press  was  then  for  the  first  time  made  known. 
Not  only  were  the  Scriptures  quickly  disseminated 
amongst  the  people,  but,  with  speed  that  seemed 
marvellous  in  that  age,  heretical  pamphlets,  cate- 
chisms, ballads,  and  caricatures — such  as  wolves 
in  sheep's  clothing  confessing,  and  granting  abso- 
lution —  followed  each  other,  and  spoke  to  the 
unlettered  in  another  form.* 

But  the  great  source  of  revenue,  the  sale  of 
Indulgences,  which  hitherto  had  produced  in  Ger- 
many a  larger  sum  than  elsewhere,  was  sensibly 
diminishing,  and  the  power  of  the  Pope  to  forgive 
the  living  their  sins  —  past,  present  and  future  — 
as  well  as  to  release  souls  in  purgatory,  beginning 
to  be  called  in  question.  The  cardinals,  therefore, 
and  others  composing  the  Papal  Court,  thought  it 
high  time  that  his  holiness,  hitherto  so  singularly 
lenient  or  apathetic  in  this  matter,  should  be 
urged  to  put  to  silence  the  presumptuous  monk 
who  was  troubling  Christendom  with  his  heretical 
teaching  —  agitating  the  minds  of  the  faithful,  and 
even  calumniating  the  Holy  Father. 

*  "  To  some  of  Luther's  contemporaries,  the  rapidity  with 
which  his  opinions  spread  appeared  so  unaccountable  that  they 
imputed  it  to  a  certain  uncommon  and  malignant  position  of  the 
stars,  which  scattered  the  spirit  of  giddiness  and  innovation  over 
the  world." — Robertson,  "Reign  of  Charles  V." 


THE  SALE    OF  INDULGENCES  I  5  I 

Leo  is  said  to  have  felt  a  sort  of  admiration  for 
the  humble  monk  who  had  the  courage  to  stand 
up,  alone  and  unsupported,  to  proclaim  in  the  face 
of  the  papacy  the  utter  worthlessness  of  those 
Indulgences,  employed  to  beguile  money  from  the 
pockets  of  the  credulous  poor,  the  ignorant,  and 
the  superstitious.  But  his  admiration  continued 
only  so  long  as  he  believed  that  the  blow  now 
aimed  at  the  power  of  the  Pope  would  prove  as 
harmless  in  its  results  as  many  others  which  from 
time  to  time  had  feebly  fallen  on  it. 

The  monk,  however,  continues  his  attacks,  and, 
taking  the  Bible  for  his  guide,  condemns,  as  erro- 
neous, some  vital  doctrines  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  From  the  approval  his  teaching  meets 
with  from  eminent  men  within  the  Church  itself, 
it  is  evident  that  what  he  boldly  proclaims  is  but 
the  expression  of  the  long  pent-up  thought  of 
many  minds  too  timid  to  openly  avow  it.  The 
heresy  spreads,  and  Luther  is  at  last  cited  by  the 
Pope  to  appear  at  Rome  within  sixty  days  to 
retract  his  errors,  repent,  and  seek  pardon. 

If  he  did  this  readily  he  was  to  be  again  received 
as  a  son  in  the  tender  embrace  of  Holy  Mother 
Church.  If  he  obstinately  persisted  in  his  errors, 
all  the  vengeance  of  that  same  holy  mother  was  to 
fall  on  him  and  all  who  were  in  any  way  attached 
to  or  interested  in  him.  He  was  to  be  cursed, 
banished,  and  all  true  Christians  were  to  drive 
him  from  their  presence.      Failure  to  do  so  would 


152  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

bring  the  offender  also  under  the  ban  of  the 
Church. 

Friends  were  alarmed,  but  Luther  was  un- 
moved. He  complained  only  of  being  declared  a 
heretic  before  he  had  been  granted  a  hearing. 
However,  the  Elector  Frederick  of  Saxony  —  not- 
withstanding a  flattering  epistle  accompanying  the 
present  of  the  golden  rose  of  that  year  from  Leo, 
to  his  dear  son  in  Christ  —  refused  to  send  Doctor 
Martin  Luther  to  Rome.  Ultimately  he  was 
ordered  to  repair  to  Augsburg,  where  the  legate 
to  the  Germanic  Diet,  Cardinal  da  Vio  (known  as 
Cajetan,  or  Gaetano,  from  his  native  place  Gaeta), 
was  appointed  to  receive  his  retraction,  and  bless 
or  curse  (as  it  was  full  or  partial)  in  the  name  of 
the  Holy  Father. 

Resisting  all  attempts  to  dissuade  him,  Luther 
set  out  from  Wittemberg,  on  foot.  The  Germanic 
Diet,  convoked  by  the  Emperor  Maximilian  at 
Augsburg,  ostensibly  for  considering  the  pro- 
posed crusade,  but  really  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  his  grandson's  election  as  King  of  the 
Romans,  in  which  he  was  unsuccessful,  had  just 
concluded  its  sittings.  Augsburg  was,  in  conse- 
quence, full  of  great  personages,  princes  of  the 
empire,  ambassadors  —  French,  English,  Italian, 
and  Spanish  —  clerical  and  lay,  accompanied  by 
their  respective  suites. 

But  none  among  them  compared  in  interest 
with  the  poor,  weary -footed,  travel -soiled  monk, 


HE   STANDS  ERECT '.—SENSATION!        I  53 

whose  arrival  anxious  crowds  were  awaiting,  eager 
to  obtain  but  a  glimpse  of  him.  Many  tried 
friends  were  among  those  who  crowded  about 
him,  vying  with  each  other  in  their  offers  of  an 
asylum  and  the  repose  he  was  so  much  in  need 
of. 

The  cardinal  legate  believes  that  an  easy  vic- 
tory lies  before  him,  whether  to  ensure  it  he 
employs  his  "flowing  tongue,"  or  that  the  awe- 
inspiring  presence  of  a  prince  of  the  Church  alone 
should  suffice  to  bring  the  monk  to  his  knees. 
Yet  his  eminence  sends  his  secretary  to  prepare 
the  monk  for  the  terrible  ordeal  that  awaits  him, 
and  to  inform  him  of  the  manner  of  presenting 
himself  before  so  great  a  dignitary. 

Luther  enters,  prostrates  himself  before  the 
cardinal  after  the  manner  prescribed.  At  the 
first  order  to  rise,  he  raises  his  body  only,  remain- 
ing on  his  knees  ;  at  a  second  order  he  rises  to 
his  feet.  Now,  standing  erect,  he  awaits  what  his 
eminence  has  to  say  to  him.  (Sensation  ! )  His 
eminence  and  his  clerical  satellites  are  con- 
founded !  Surely  the  monk  has  not  quite  com- 
prehended the  meaning  of  the  ceremony!  As 
a  penitent  he  should  have  remained  in  that  abject 
posture  and  humbly  whined  pcccavi,  or  chanted 
the  palinode. 

As  the  legate  does  not  address  him,  Luther 
respectfully  inquires  of  what  he  is  accused.  His 
amazing  audacity  astonishes  the  assembled  eccle- 


154  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

siastics.  But  Da  Vio  is  inclined  to  be  lenient, 
He  is  fond,  too,  of  disputation,  and  is  considered 
by  himself  and  his  order  the  most  learned  of  the 
Dominicans.  He,  however,  deigns  to  inform  his 
"dear  son"  that  he  is  accused  of  exciting  the 
whole  of  Germany  by  the  errors  he  had  uttered 
with  regard  to  Indulgences  and  the  nature  of 
faith.  But  being  informed  that  he  is  one  of  the 
learned  doctors  of  his  university,  well  acquainted 
with  the  Scriptures,  and  that  he  has  a  large  num- 
ber of  pupils,  he  benignantly  desires  that  he  will 
attentively  listen  to  him. 

"  If  he  would  remain  a  member  of  the  Church 
and  find  in  the  Holy  Father  a  gracious  master, 
ready  to  pardon  the  penitent  sinner  and  to  wel- 
come him  back  into  the  fold  of  the  faithful,  he 
must  retract.  He  must  promise  to  be  more 
guarded  for  the  future  —  abstaining  wholly  from 
heretical  teaching,  and  the  publication  of  new  and 
erroneous  doctrines."  But  Luther  firmly  replies 
that  he  cannot  retract  until  it  is  proved  to  him 
that  he  is  in  error.  This  irritates  the  cardinal 
legate,  who,  in  a  high  tone  of  authority,  explains 
that  he  came  not  there  to  argue,  but  to  receive 
his  retractation.  However,  he  did  condescend  to 
argue ;  confident  in  his  ability  to  confute  his 
humble  opponent.  But  papal  decrees  and  scho- 
lastic opinions  were  proofs  rejected  by  Luther, 
who,  in  support  of  his  own  views,  referred  to 
Scripture. 


RETRACT,    MY  FRIEND,   RETRACT  I  55 

"  The  Pope  has  authority  and  power  over  all 
things,"  said  the  cardinal. 

"Save  Scripture,"  replied  Luther. 

"Save  Scripture!"  repeated  his  adversary  in  a 
mocking  tone,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  and  pour- 
ing forth  a  torrent  of  words,  contemptuous,  men- 
acing, and  ironical. 

So  ended  their  first  interview.  A  second  and  a 
third  followed,  with  no  better  result.  The  volu- 
bility of  the  cardinal  stopped  Luther's  every 
attempt  to  reply.  At  his  written  declarations  my 
lord  cardinal  affected  to  laugh.  "  Retract,  my 
friend,  retract,"  he  said;  "such  is  the  Holy 
Father's  will.  But  whether  you  choose  to  obey 
or  not  —  no  matter.  My  friend,"  he  said,  jeer- 
ingly,  "  you  will  find  it  difficult  to  kick  against  the 
pricks." 

Some  days  having  elapsed  without  any  fresh 
summons  from  his  eminence,  Luther's  friends 
urged  him  to  leave  Augsburg,  suspecting  that  the 
legate's  silence  boded  evil,  and  that  an  order  to 
seize  him  and  send  him  to  Rome  might  at  any 
hour  arrive.  A  safe  conduct  was  procured  from 
the  emperor  at  a  happy  moment,  when,  eager  to 
set  out  for  his  favourite  pursuit  —  hunting  the 
chamois  —  he  gave  little  heed  for  whom  it  was 
granted.  A  guide  was  provided,  and  a  pony, 
without  either  saddle  or  bridle,  was  lent  by 
Luther's  friend  Staupitz.  A  letter  was  left  for 
Da  Vio,  and  at  midnight  he  and  his  guide  passed 


156  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

unmolested  through  the  dark  and  silent  streets 
of  Augsburg.  A  door  in  the  city  wall  was  opened 
to  him  by  order  of  his  friend  Langemantel,  one  of 
the  councillors  of  Augsburg,  and  Luther  was  soon 
beyond  the  power  of  the  cardinal  legate. 

At  all  the  towns  through  which  he  passed  on 
his  journey,  he  was  the  object  of  great  and 
general  interest,  and  everywhere  offers  of  hospi- 
tality awaited  him.  But  Luther  was  anxious  to 
reach  Wittemberg.  The  tenour  of  the  Pope's 
letter  to  his  legate  at  Augsburg  concerning  him 
had  been  made  known  to  Luther  for  the  first  time 
at  Nuremberg  by  the  prior  of  his  convent.  Only 
then  did  he  become  aware  of  the  perilous  position 
in  which  he  was  placed,  and  the  probability  of  his 
losing  the  protection  of  the  elector,  from  the 
necessity  he  would  be  under  of  leaving  Wittem- 
berg. 

He  arrived  on  the  eve  of  the  feast  of  All  Saints. 
The  elector  was  absent.  On  his  return,  letters 
breathing  vengeance  on  the  heretic  monk  who 
had  fled  from  Augsburg  desired  the  elector  to 
send  him  to  Rome,  or  to  banish  him  from  his 
dominions.  At  first  he  hesitated,  then  refused  to 
do  either.  Soon  after,  in  a  letter  to  Luther,  he 
expressed  a  wish  that  he  would  leave  Wittem- 
berg, and  in  a  second  letter  urged  him  to  do  so 
without  delay. 

He  was  on  the  point  of  obeying,  and  had  de- 
termined   to    seek    refuge   in    France,    where    he 


SAVED  FOR    THE   PRESENT  l$J 

believed  he  would  be  able  to  make  known  his 
views  and  preach  the  truth  without  hindrance. 
The  doctors  of  the  University  of  Paris  appeared 
to  him  to  enjoy  much  enviable  liberty  in  the 
expression  of  their  opinions ;  besides,  he  then 
agreed  with  them  in  many  points  of  doctrine. 
Another  letter  from  the  elector  bids  him  remain. 
A  communication  from  the  Pope  had  given  an- 
other turn  to  the  matter.  There  was  a  change 
of  tactics  on  the  Holy  Father's  part.  Luther  was 
saved  for  the  present. 

Another  event  —  the  death  of  the  Emperor 
Maximilian  (January  the  1 2th,  I  5  19)  —  still  further 
favoured  the  reformer  and  conduced  to  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Reformation.  The  attention  both  of 
the  Pontiff  and  the  dignitaries  of  the  Church  of 
Rome,  as  also  that  of  the  sovereigns  of  Europe, 
was  diverted  by  it  from  religious  strife  and  theo- 
logical disputation  to  the  political  struggle  about 
to  ensue  for  the  sceptre  of  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire.  During  the  interregnum  the  Elector 
Frederick  of  Saxony,  the  most  powerful  of  the 
seven  electoral  princes,  became  administrator  of 
the  empire. 

Leo  was  very  anxious  to  prevent  the  election  of 
Charles  of  Austria,  already  King  of  Naples  and 
of  Spain,  to  the  imperial  throne,  and  for  that 
object  desirous  of  conciliating  the  Elector  of 
Saxony  ;  hoping  to  bring  him  over  to  his  views 
and  to   induce  him  to  oppose   Charles's  election 


158  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

on  the  ground  also  of  his  youth  incapacitating 
him  for  so  important  and  responsible  a  dignity. 
Therefore,  the  elector's  protege,  the  "  monk  of 
Wittemberg,"  was  for  a  time  to  be  left  in  peace. 
Thus,  under  the  shadow  of  the  elector's  vicariate, 
the  Reformation  for  the  next  eighteen  months 
spread  and  prospered. 


CHAPTER    X. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian.  —  Maximilian's  Poverty.  —  Rival 
Claims  for  Empire.  —  The  Infidel  Turk.  —  The  Bankers 
Fugger.  —  Too  Late  in  the  Field.  —  Frederick  of  Saxony. — 
A  Stripling  of  Limited  Capacity.  —  Emerging  from  Obscu- 
rity.—  The  Spaniards  Dissatisfied.  —  The  Title  of  Majesty. 

HE  Emperor  Maximilian,  though  en- 
dowed with  none  of  the  qualities  of  a 
great  prince,  was  yet  much  regretted 
by  his  subjects.  He  was  of  an  easy  temper,  good- 
natured,  pleasant -mannered,  and  in  his  younger 
days  very  handsome.  He  was  possessed  of  a 
sort  of  ready  wit,  and  many  bans  mots,  generally 
amusing  and  often  piquant,  are  attributed  to  him. 
Hunting  the  chamois  was  his  favourite  diversion. 
But  he  was  always  full  of  great  projects,  which 
usually  came  to  nothing,  because  always  asking 
money  of  others  in  order  to  carry  them  out. 

He  had  been  needy  from  his  youth.  His  father, 
Frederick  III.,  who  wore  the  imperial  crown  for 
fifty -four  years,  had  the  reputation  of  being  the 
most  niggardly  of  men  ("Le  plus  cliicJic  hommc  du 
monde").  When  his  son  Maximilian  was  be- 
trothed and  married  by  proxy  to  Mary  of  Bur- 
gundy, daughter  of  Charles  the  Bold,  he  was 
unable     for    months    to     make     the    journey    to 

i59 


l6o  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Flanders  to  join  his  bride  in  her  own  dominions  ; 
and  only  then  when  she  furnished  him  with  the 
means  of  making  his  appearance  there  in  a 
manner  befitting  his  rank. 

Again,  when  left  a  young  widower  (Mary 
having  died  in  her  twenty -fifth  year,  of  injuries 
sustained  by  a  fall  from  her  horse),  he  was  once 
more  betrothed  to  a  great  princess  —  on  this  oc- 
casion Anne  of  Brittany  —  want  of  means  pre- 
vented him  from  going  in  person  to  marry  his 
fiancee.  Charles  VIII.,  taking  advantage  of  this, 
and  political  matters  favouring  his  suit,  Madame 
Anne,  rather  against  her  will,  became  the  bride 
of  the  King  of  France  instead  of  the  Emperor- 
elect  of  Germany.  He  seems  to  have  been  equally 
needy  even  after  his  father's  death,  and  to  have 
been  always  ready  to  sell  himself  to  the  highest 
bidder,  when  required  to  take  part  in  wars  or  to 
enter  into  treaties  of  peace  and  amity — "thus 
reaping  advantages  from  every  war  and  every 
negotiation  in  Italy  during  his  reign." 

His  efforts  to  obtain  the  election  of  his  grand- 
son as  King  of  the  Romans  by  bribes  and  promises, 
though  unsuccessful,  yet  in  some  measure  prepared 
the  way  for  his  election  to  the  empire.  * 
,  No  sooner  was  Maximilian's  death  announced, 
I 

*  Maximilian  was  elected  emperor  in  the  lifetime  of  his  father ; 
but,  as  the  ceremony  of  receiving  the  crown  from  the  Pope  had 
never  taken  place,  he  was,  in  fact,  only  King  of  the  Romans 
himself  ;  therefore  no  other  king  could  be  elected  while  he  lived. 


Charles  Vlll. 


Steel  engraving  by  W.  Wellstood. 


' 


RIVAL    CLAIMS  FOR   EMPIRE  l6l 

than  Charles  and  Francis  hastened  to  put  forward 
their  several  claims  to  the  succession,  —  the  elect- 
ors being  assembled  at  Frankfort  to  consider  and 
decide  on  them.  Both  candidates  had  declared 
their  determination  to  leave  no  means  untried  to 
secure  the  realisation  of  their  respective  hopes  f 
the  "chevalier  king"  courteously  announcing  that 
he  should  seek  the  great  prize  they  contended  for 
as  he  would  woo  the  favours  of  a  mistress,  with 
generous  and  chivalrous  feelings  towards  his  rival. 

The  sceptre  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  had  so 
long  been  swayed  by  princes  of  the  House  of 
Austria,  that  Charles  considered  that  it  descended 
to  him  by  right.  Francis,  on  the  other  hand, 
urged,  or  his  emissaries  did  so  for  him,  that  the 
time  had  arrived  to  convince  the  House  of  Austria 
that  the  imperial  crown  was  not  hereditary  but 
elective.  Very  eloquently  the  ambassadors,  —  of 
whom  Admiral  Bonnivet  was  the  most  fluent,  — 
and  other  agents  sent  by  Francis  to  Frankfort 
and  other  parts  of  the  empire,  supported  his 
cause ;  enforcing  their  arguments  by  the  lavish 
distribution  of  400,000  gold  crowns,  either  in 
presents  for  purchasing  votes,  or  in  banquets  and 
fetes  to  persons  of  distinction,  whose  approval  of 
the  French  candidature  might  be  likely  to  influ- 
ence the  votes  of  the  electors. 

Large  sums  were  also  remitted  from  Spain  for 
the  same  purpose,  and  every  possible  strategem 
employed  by  Charles's  agents  to  remove  the  objec- 


1 62  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

tions  of  those  who  were  too  conscientious  to  be 
won  by  bribes  to  give  their  support  to  either 
candidate.  Francis  had  said  "  he  would  spend 
three  millions  to  obtain  the  imperial  crown,"  and 
further  "had  sworn"  —  probably  to  excuse  and  in 
some  degree  to  sanctify  all  this  intriguing,  bribing, 
and  bargaining  —  "  that  three  years  after  his  elec- 
tion he  would  be  in  possession  of  Constantinople, 
or  would  have  ceased  to  live." 

To  conquer  the  infidel  Turk  was  then  regarded 
as  a  noble,  a  holy  ambition.  It  must  have  been 
pleasant  also  for  his  agents  to  allude  to  it,  in 
mitigation  of  the  discredit  attaching  to  their 
mission,  as  they  travelled  with  the  train  of  horses 
laden  with  treasure,  and  an  armed  escort  to  protect 
it.  Their  pockets  were  also  filled  with  the  king's 
signatures  in  blank ;  the  reason  being  that  the 
great  house  of  Fugger  and  other  bankers  were 
prohibited  by  the  Free  Cities  of  the  League  of 
Suabia  from  issuing  bills  of  exchange  for  the 
King  of  France.* 

Henry  VIII.  of  England  was  also  disposed  to 
put  in  a  claim  to  the  imperial  crown.  It  was 
mortifying  to  his  vanity  that  either  of  the  young 

*"To  the  bankers  Fugger,"  says  Michelet,  "  were  due  the 
two  great  events  that  changed  the  face  of  the  world  —  the 
election  of  Charles  V.  and  the  Reformation  ;  the  former  by 
closing  the  bank  to  Francis  I.,  and  supplying  Charles  with 
the  funds  he  needed ;  the  latter  by  becoming  the  bankers  or 
receivers  of  the  product  of  the  sale  of  the  Indulgences  farmed 
by  Albert  of  Brandenburg,  Archbishop  of  Mayence. 


TOO   LATE   IN   THE   FIELD  1 63 

sovereigns  should  be  elevated  to  a  dignity  placing 
them,  as  it  was  then  considered,  so  far  above 
other  monarchs,  and  consequently  above  himself. 
It  was  late  in  the  day  to  enter  the  lists.  Never- 
theless, he  sent  off  his  ambassador  to  Germany. 
Though  no  decision  had  yet  been  come  to,  the 
election  was  an  affair  so  complicated,  and  the 
electors  already  so  besieged  by  artful  and  cunning 
devices  to  wrest  from  them  their  votes  for  this  or 
that  candidate,  that  a  new  claim  preferred  at  the 
eleventh  hour  had  no  chance  of  success. 

So  Henry  was  told  ;  and  of  course  with  many 
expressions  of  sincere  regret,  both  from  German 
princes  and  the  Pope's  representatives,  that  he 
should  so  long  have  held  aloof  from  the  contest. 
But  he  was  thus  enabled  to  withdraw  his  claim 
with  dignity,  and  with  the  full  conviction  that, 
had  he  sooner  preferred  ity  he  would  have  had 
every  chance  of  thwarting  both  his  rivals. 

Four  of  the  electors  had,  on  very  high  terms 
during  the  preceding  year,  secretly  sold  themselves 
to  Francis,  and  as  secretly  disposed  of  their  votes 
to  Charles.  But  the  death  of  Maximilian,  they  con- 
tended, absolved  them  from  their  promises.  They 
were,  however,  willing  to  renew  the  bargain  at  a 
higher  figure,  and  Francis  recklessly  wrote  to  his 
ambassador,  Bonnivet,  to  "  stuff  those  gluttons  to 
their  hearts'  content."*     Considering  the  object 

*  See  Fleuranges,  "  Mimoires;  "  Fiddes,  "  Life  of  Charles  V.  ;" 
Robertson  ;   II.  Martin. 


164  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

in  view,  as  well  as  the  pleasure  of  overcoming  his 
rival,  the  more  prudent  Charles,  having  also  the 
Fuggers  to  support  him,  may  for  once  have  been 
as  prodigal  as  the  "chevalier  king." 

Leo  X.  was  very  desirous  of  excluding  both 
Charles  and  Francis  from  the  dignity  they  so 
ardently  sought.  The  imperial  and  papal  author- 
ity often  came  into  collision.  It  suited,  therefore, 
the  views  of  the  papacy  that  the  sceptre  of  the 
Holy  Roman  Empire  should  be  in  the  hands  of  a 
less  powerful  sovereign  than  either  the  king  of 
France  or  of  Spain.  "  Choose  neither  a  French- 
man nor  a  Spaniard,  but  a  German  —  one  of  your- 
selves," he  said  to  the  electors.  "  More  than  one 
among  you  has  sufficient  power  and  capacity  to  be 
invested  with  the  imperial  dignity."  The  electors 
were  of  the  same  opinion,  and  believing  none  more 
worthy  of  it  than  the  Elector  Frederick  of  Saxony, 
to  him  the  sceptre  of  the  empire  was  unanimously 
offered. 

But  Frederick  declined  to  accept  it. \"  The 
interests  of  the  German  states,"  he  said,  "re- 
quired that  it  should  be  placed  in  the  hands  of 
a  sovereign  whose  dominions,  revenues,  and  au- 
thority far  exceeded  his,  or  those  of  any  prince 
of  the  empire,  one  who,  for  their  defence,  could 
bring  into  the  field  a  sufficient  force  to  meet  an 
enemy"  (alluding  to  the  Turks)  "whom  he  would 
be  powerless  to  encounter." 

Of  the  two  candidates  he  thought  the  King  of 


A   STRIPLING    OF  LIMITED    CAPACITY     1 65 

Spain  should  be  preferred.  He  was  of  German 
extraction,  a  prince  of  the  empire,  and  his  heredi- 
tary dominions  lay  on  the  frontier  most  open  to 
attack.  The  King  of  France  was  of  alien  race,  a 
stranger  to  their  language,  manners,  and  customs. 
He  therefore  gave  his  voice  for  the  King  of  Spain. 

This  was  decisive,  the  other  electors  voting  also 
for  Charles  V.>  The  Pope  withdrew  his  protest 
and  as  no  king  of  Naples  could,  by  the  laws  of  the 
Germanic  Constitution,  succeed  to  the  empire,  Leo, 
finding  opposition  useless,  absolved  him  from  that 
legal  impediment. 

As  a  precaution,  however,  against  the  possible 
violation  by  so  powerful  a  prince,  of  the  rights, 
privileges,  and  customs,  of  the  German  states,  the 
Diet  drew  up  a  formal  statement  of  them,  called 
"The  Capitulation,"  and  by  it  the  Emperor  Charles 
V.,  and  his  successors,  were  required  to  promise, 
solemnly  on  oath,  faithfully  to  observe  all  the  stip- 
ulations contained  therein.  The  ambassador  signed 
this  document  on  behalf  of  his  absent  master, 
and  Charles  afterwards  confirmed  it  by  his  own 
signature. 

Great  indeed  was  the  French  king's  disappoint- 
ment —  extreme  his  sense  of  humiliation  at  the 
triumph  of  a  rival  whom  hitherto  he  had  almost 
contemned  ;  looking  on  him  as  a  stripling  of  lim- 
ited capacity,  under  the  sway  of  his  governor, 
Chievres,  for  Charles  had  shown  himself  humbly 
submissive  to  the  wishes  of  his  "good  father,"  the 


: 


1 66  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

brilliant  young  monarch  of  France,  the  ruler  of  a 
nation  foremost  among  the  enemies  of  his  house. 
Until  now  hidden,  as  it  were,  in  the  marshes  of 
Flanders,  Charles  is  scarcely  known  in  Italy,  and 
is  but  ill  at  ease  in  Spain,  where  the  title  of  king 
is  accorded  him  only  under  protest. 

But  with  imposing  effect  the  youthful  monarch 
emerges  from  this  obscurity  by  the  distinguished 
success  of  his  first  effort  to  cast  off  the  trammels 
that  interfere  with  his  freedom  of  action,  and  the 
realisation  of  that  ambitious  dream  —  universal 
dominion  —  which  he  has  cherished  from  boy- 
hood. All  the  schemes  of  his  rival  are  at  once 
disconcerted,  while,  at  the  same  time,  a  blow  is 
given  to  that  high  consideration,  which,  though 
ill -deserved,  Francis  I.  has  enjoyed  throughout 
Europe  since  the  murderous  conflict  with  the 
Swiss,  and  triumph  over  them  at  Marignan. 

Very  keenly  did  Francis  feel  the  ignominious 
defeat  he  considered  he  had  met  with.  For  a  time 
it  even  preyed  so  much  on  his  mind  that  all  the 
blandishments  of  the  fair  ladies  of  his  court,  anx- 
ious to  console  him,  could  not  put  to  flight  his 
gloomy  thoughts.  He  sometimes  affected  to  con- 
sider himself  much  indebted  to  the  electors  for 
relieving  him  from  so  heavy  a  burden  and  its 
attendant  anxieties,  yet  cherished  no  less  a  deep 
resentment  towards  the  young  Emperor  Charles 
V.,  preferred  before  him  in  the  sight  of  Europe ; 
thus   sorely   wounding   his   amour  propre.     From 


THE   SPANIARDS  DISSATISFIED  1 67 

this  sprang  that  personal  jealousy  and  rivalry 
in  which  some  historians  see  the  true  principle 
of  those  almost  ceaseless  wars  by  which,  during 
the  reign  of  those  two  monarchs,  France  and  Italy 
were  ravaged. 

Charles  was  elected  emperor  on  the  18th  of 
June,  1 5 19.  He  was  at  Barcelona  when,  nine 
days  after,  he  was  informed  of  it.  The  Spaniards 
were  as  much  dissatisfied  with  this  elevation  of 
their  king  to  the  imperial  dignity  as  he  himself 
was  gratified  by  it.  They  urged  him  to  decline 
the  proffered  honour,  as  they  desired  their  sov- 
ereign to  reside  among  them,  and  objected  to  the 
government  of  a  viceroy.  Charles,  however,  heeded 
not  their  remonstrances  ;  but  gave  a  very  gracious 
reception  to  the  German  embassy,  headed  by  the 
Count  Palatine,  and  accepted  the  dignity  conferred 
on  him  by  the  electors,  promising  to  speedily  set 
out  for  Germany  for  his  public  coronation. 

Murmurs  grew  louder,  the  Spaniards  exhibiting 
a  most  refractory  spirit.  Serious  commotions  oc- 
curred in  Valencia,  and  a  mutinous  disposition 
showed  itself  with  no  less  violence  in  Castile. 
Charles's  Flemish  ministers  were  in  the  highest 
disfavour,  but  were  as  anxious  to  leave  Spain  as 
their  master,  who,  after  near  a  twelvemonth's 
delay,  disregarding  a  threatened  insurrection  in 
Toledo,  embarked  at  Corunna  on  the  2 2d  of  May, 
1520,  having  arranged  to  meet  Henry  VIII.  at 
Sandwich. 


1 68  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

It  is  remarked  by  Robertson  *  that  the  effect 
on  Charles's  mind  of  this  great  elevation  was 
noticeable  by  his  assumption  from  that  time  of 
the  title  of  majesty  in  all  public  writs  which  he 
issued  as  King  of  Spain,  and  his  requirement  of 
it  from  his  subjects  as  a  mark  of  their  respect. 
Until  then,  he  continues,  all  the  monarchs  of 
Europe  were  satisfied  with  the  appellation  of 
"Highness,"  or  "Grace;"  but  the  vanity  of  other 
sovereigns  soon  led  them  to  follow  the  example  of 
the  Spanish  king. 

According,  however,  to  French  historians,  it 
was  not  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  who  was  the 
first  monarch  that  bestowed  on  himself  the  title 
of  majesty,  but  that  most  ignoble  of  the  kings  of 
France,  Louis  XI. 

*  "  Reign  of  Charles  V." 


CHAPTER   XL 

A  Dream  of  Glory  and  Grandeur. —  Constantinople,  or  Death! 

—  Sickness  and  Famine.  —  Free  Gifts  to  the  King.  —  The 
Most  Learned  Prince.  —  A  Good  Calf  to  His  Leg.  ■ —  Eng- 
land's True  King.  —  Young,  Gay,  and  Gallant. —  The  Rival 
Monarchs.  —  Mutual  Courtesies.  —  Journeying  Toward  the 
Sea.  —  A  Halt  in  the  Preparations. —  Europe  Astounded. — 
The  Feast  of  Pentecost.  — ■  Europe's  Mightiest  Prince. — The 
Old  Spanish  Doubloons. —  Espials  and  Counter-espials. — 
The  Cardinal  Visits    the   King.  —  The   Signal  to  Advance. 

—  The  Royal  Retinue. — The  Chevalier  King  Approaches. — 

—  An  Embrace  on  Horseback.  —  Dwelling  in  Tents. — 
Henry's  Visit  to  Queen  Claude. — Incurring  a  Risk.  —  The 
Royal  Wrestlers. — •  French  and  English  Fashions. — A  More 
Business-like  Meeting. 

HE  king's  signal  defeat  at  Frankfort  was 
a  no  less  mortifying  blow  to  the  paladins 
and  fair  damsels  of  the  corrupt  Court  of 
France  —  where,  under  the  protection  of  Madame 
Louise,  vice  still  grew  and  flourished,  masked  by 
the  varnish  of  external  elegance,  great  politeness 
and  distinguished  manners  —  than  to  the  king  him- 
self. If  Charles  V.,  dominated  by  the  one  passion 
of  ambition,  as  described  by  some  historians, 
looked  forward  to  girding  himself  with  the  power- 
ful sword,  as  well  as  wearing  the  crown,  of  the 

169 


170  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

great  Charlemagne,  and  with  it  reviving  the  Empire 
of  the  West,  Francis  I.  had  also  his  dream  of  glory 
and  grandeur. 

He  beheld,  in  mental  vision,  the  scenes  described 
in  romances  of  chivalry,  which,  as  a  youth,  had 
formed  his  chief  study,  often  guided  his  conduct, 
and  partly  formed  his  character.  He  saw  the 
hosts  of  the  faithful  once  more  assembled,  and,  led 
by  invincible  steel-clad  warriors — prcux  chevaliers 
all  of  them  —  ready  to  go  forth  to  fight  the  Cres- 
cent under  the  sacred  banner  of  the  Cross  ;  to  put 
down  the  power  of  the  infidel,  and  recover  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  He,  too,  would  be  the  foremost 
of  a  band  of  Christian  knights,  for  had  he  not 
promised  the  electors  to  conquer  the  Turks  within 
three  years  or  die  ? 

Papal  opposition  to  the  teaching  of  Luther  had 
agitated  men's  minds,  and  filled  Christendom  with 
religious  strife.  Anxiety  was  further  increased  by 
the  Pope's  penitential  processions,  and  the  proposal 
of  a  new  crusade  against  the  invading  Turks. 
The  religious  spirit  of  the  times,  therefore,  seemed 
at  that  particular  moment  not  altogether  out  of 
harmony  with  the  idea  of  a  ninth  holy  war,  whether 
conducted  according  to  the  chivalric  views  of 
Saint  Francis,  or  the  more  matter-of-fact  views  of 
Saint  Charles. 

Francis  had  never  been  very  popular,  except  with 
the  young  nobility  who  had  grown  up  with  him. 
Amongst  the  people  he  enjoyed  a  sort  of  prestige, 


SICKNESS  AND   FAMINE  I/I 

on  coming  to  the  throne,  as  the  husband  of  the 
"saintly  Madame  Claude,"  the  daughter  of  their 
father,  the  "good  King  Louis  XII."  But  when 
they  came  to  know  him  better,  his  popularity  van- 
ished. At  the  period  now  in  question,  murmuring, 
discontent,  and  great  distress  were  general,  and  in 
some  parts  of  the  kingdom  sickness  and  famine, 
that  frequent  scourge  of  the  land,  prevailed. 

To  obtain  the  enormous  sums  he  had  squan- 
dered with  the  vain  hope  that  the  German  states 
would  elect  him  as  their  head,  Francis  and  his 
chancellor,  Duprat,  had  had  recourse  to  the  most 
oppressive  measures,  the  most  unjust  exactions, 
always  enforcing  them  with  the  utmost  rigour. 
The  vast  amount  thus  iniquitously  raised  was  now 
expended.  Further  supplies  were  needed,  and 
Francis,  who  had  returned  to  his  usual  course  of 
libertine  pleasures,  with  his  accustomed  reckless 
indifference  to  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom,  trusted 
to  the  inventive  brain  of  his  chancellor  to  procure 
them. 

The  already  heavy  faille,  or  tax  on  the  com- 
monalty, was  much  increased.  The  people  were 
enraged  at  this,  and  complained  that  the  burden 
imposed  on  them  was  heavier  than  they  could 
bear.  Vain  were  their  remonstrances.  Driven  to 
despair,  they  cried  aloud  for  vengeance,  and  were 
punished  for  their  presumption  by  whipping,  im- 
prisonment, and  hanging.  Francis  and  his  infamous 
mother  —  he    squandering,  she    (continuing     her 


172  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

depredations  on  the  public  treasury)  hoarding  — 
|   had  no  sympathy  whatever  with  the  people. 

The  Venetian,  Giustiniani,  writes  that  "words 
were  powerless  to  express  the  hatred  and  indig- 
nation of  the  feelings  of  the  people  towards  them. 
The  king,"  he  continues,  "has  taken  the  gold  and 
silver  plate  of  the  princes  and  prelates  ;  has  exacted 
fines  for  the  customs  and  usages  enjoyed  by  the 
gentry  on  their  own  domains,  and  attempted  to 
levy  a  fifth  penny  on  all  their  receipts  for  thirty 
r  years  back.  He  has  taken  loans  from  his  officers  ; 
accepted  '  benevolences '  (free  gifts  of  money) 
from  them,  and  is  about  to  sell  his  own  private 
domain,  already  mortgaged  to  the  amount  of  300,- 
000  or  400,000  livres."*  In  short,  this  Christian 
King  of  France  had  begged,  borrowed,  and  plun- 
dered in  all  directions. 

Notwithstanding  the  necessitous  position  of  both 
king  and  people,  preparations  were  about  to  be 
made,  on  a  scale  of  splendour  that  were  to  throw 
all  former  festivities  into  the  shade,  for  the  long 
deferred  interview  shortly  to  take  place  between 
Henry  VIII.  and  Francis  I.,  at  a  spot  between 
Ardres  and  Guines.<  Henry  had  been  very  jealous 
of  the  military  renown  acquired  by  Francis  at 
Marignan,  and  was  most  desirous  of  seeing  him. 
He  made  frequent  inquiries  of  those  who  had  had 
any  intercourse  with  him  respecting  his  personal 

*  See  "  State  Tapers,"  reports  of  Venetian  ambassadors  ;  also 
"  Memoires  Jit  Seigneur  de  Tavannes." 


THE   MOST  LEARNED   PRINCE  I  73 

appearance,  his  manner  of  bearing  himself,  his 
tastes  and  acquirements.  For  Henry  himself  was 
perhaps  the  most  learned  prince  of  that  age, 
though  he  was  not  unmindful  of  his  personal 
advantages. 

If  they  were  rather  of  the  burly  kind,  it  is  yet 
probable  that  Henry  was  a  man  of  finer  physique 
than  Francis.  For  although  his  courtiers  attrib- 
uted to  the  French  king  the  form  and  stature  of 
a  demigod  —  which  may  have  led  to  his  being 
regarded  with  an  unusually  critical  eye  by  foreign 
ambassadors  and  others,  when  for  the  first  time 
they  found  themselves  in  his  godship's  presence  — 
yet  it  is  certain  that  all  were  struck  by  the  length 
arid  slenderness  of  his  legs,  compared  with  the 
shortness  of  his  body,  which  was  also  inclined  to 
corpulence.  The  exaggerated  size  of  the  puffed- 
out,  padded  trunk-hose,  introduced  by  him  at  the 
beginning  of  his  reign,  may  have  partially  con- 
cealed this  defect,  aided  by  the  mantle. 

When  the  Venetian  ambassador,  Pasqualigo, 
arrived  in  England  —  having  been  received  by 
Francis  on  passing  through  Paris  —  Henry  in- 
quired of  him,  at  his  first  interview,  whether  the 
King  of  France  was  really  as  tall  as  he  was.  The 
Venetian  replied,  "  He  thought  there  was  but  little 
difference." 

"  Is  he  as  stout  ?  "  asked  Henry. 

"Not  quite,  I  think,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"  What  sort  of  less  has  he  ?  " 


174  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

"Very  spare  ones.' 

"Whereupon,"  says  the  ambassador,  "the  king 
opened  the  front  of  his  doublet,  and,  placing  his 
hand  on  his  thigh,  said,  '  Look  here ;  you  see 
there  's  a  good  calf  to  my  leg.'  " 

Soon,  however,  he  would  be  able  to  judge  for 
himself  as  to  their  respective  claims  to  be  the 
Adonis  of  that  age  among  princes. 

Various  circumstances  had  concurred  to  defer 
from  time  to  time  the  desired  interview  between 
the  sovereigns  of  France  and  England,  first  pro- 
jected in  1 5 1 8,  when  Tournay  was  restored  to 
France,  and  the  betrothal  of  the  infant  dauphin 
and  princess  took  place. 

But  Francis,  in  his  turn,  was  now  urgent  that 
the  meeting  should  not  be  longer  delayed,  and 
Wolsey,  whom  he  treated  with  the  greatest  defer- 
ence while  adequately  bribing  him  —  at  least,  so 
far  as  it  was  in  his  power  to  administer  to  that 
magnificent  and  haughty  prelate's  insatiable  love 
of  wealth  —  was  humbly  entreated  to  press  his 
master  definitively  to  fix  a  date  for  it,  and  to  sug- 
gest an  early  one.  He  was  very  anxious  to  secure 
Henry's  friendship,  but  more  especially  sought  it 
through  that  of  England's  true  king  —  Wolsey. 
He  believed  that  his  own  fascinations  and  the  sup- 
port of  the  all-powerful  minister  would  prevail  on 
the  English  monarch  to  enter  into  such  an  alliance 
with  him  as  would,  in  some  measure,  serve  to 
check  any  attempt  of  the  young  emperor  to  acquire 


YOUNG,    GAY,   AND    GALLANT  1/5 

a  preponderance  of  power  fatal  or  formidable  to 
the  rest  of  Europe. 

Wolsey's  interest  in  the  French  alliance, 
towards  which  he  had  hitherto  shown  so  much 
favour,  had  considerably  cooled  since  the  French 
king's  influence  in  the  College  of  Cardinals  (prom- 
ised to  him  in  furtherance  of  his  pretensions  to  the 
papacy)  had  fallen  so  low,  while  that  of  Charles 
had  risen  so  greatly.  Veer  round  and  abruptly 
oppose  what,  until  now,  he  had  sought  to  promote, 
he  could  not ;  but  he  could  interpose  delay,  and 
further  delay,  until  circumstances  arose  (the  war 
looming  in  the  distance)  affording  a  pretext  for 
evading  the  interview  altogether. 

England  held  a  distinguished  position  at  that 
time  among  the  states  of  Europe.  "  All  sought 
the  monarch's  friendship,  and  obsequiously  courted 
the  favour  of  his  minister,  striving  by  presents, 
promises,  or  flattery,  to  work  on  his  avarice,  his 
ambition,  or  his  pride.  Nor  was  Henry  insensible 
to  the  singular  advantage  he  derived  from  the 
deference  paid  to  him  as  the  natural  guardian  of 
the  liberties  of  Europe."  *  But  he  was  also  young, 
gay,  and  gallant,  fond  of  amusement,  pomp,  and 
show,  and  by  no  means  disposed  on  this  occasion 
to  yield  to  any  suggestion  to  forego  the  gratifica- 
tion of  his  long-cherished  wish  to  meet  his  chivalric 
brother  of  France. 

*  See  Robertson,  also  Fiddes's  "  Life  of  Wolsey,"  and  "  For- 
eign State  Papers." 


176  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

After  some  correspondence  respecting  the  gen- 
eral arrangements,  the  etiquette  to  be  observed, 
the  order  of  precedence,  and  other  important  pre- 
liminaries, Wolsey  proposed  the  month  of  July 
for  the  interview.  Francis  was  annoyed  at  this 
unreasonable  delay.  It  was  early  in  the  spring ; 
and  in  reply  he  suggested  that  April,  or  May  at 
latest,  was  a  more  suitable  time  of  the  year. 
Further,  it  was  stated  that  the  queen's  accouche- 
ment was  expected  in  July,  and  that  if  the  inter- 
view were  deferred  till  that  month  she  would  be 
unable  to  be  present. 

This  was  sufficient  for  the  then  gallant  Henry, 
who  immediately  charged  his  ambassador,  Sir 
Richard  Wingfield,  to  declare  "  that  he  would  not 
for  anything  that  the  queen  should  be  absent. 
Wanting  her  presence,  he  should  then  be  lack 
of  one  great  part  of  the  perfection  of  the  feast." 
The  31st  of  May  was  then  appointed  for  the 
meeting  of  the  young  monarchs  of  France  and 
England. 

Charles  being  informed  of  this,  hastened  his 
departure  from  Spain.  For  while  he,  too,  was 
anxious  for  a  friendly  alliance  with  Henry,  he 
desired  no  less  to  defeat  his  rival's  views  of  draw- 
ing England  nearer  to  France  by  closer  bonds  of 
amity.  As  some  French  historians  assert,  and 
events  seem  to  confirm  it,  Charles  had  outbid 
Francis  for  the  services  of  Wolsey  by  larger  pen- 
sions, presents,  and,  above  all,  the  promise  of  his 


MUTUAL    COURTESIES  I  77 

influence  at  Rome  when  the  chair  of  Saint  Peter 
became  vacant.*  Francis  was  aware  that  a  meet- 
ing was  arranged  between  Henry  and  Charles. 
His  secret  agents  watched  and  reported  all  the 
young  emperor's  movements,  while  the  latter,  of 
course,  was  kept  equally  well  informed  of  all  that 
was  passing  between  Henry  and  Francis.  To 
give  the  emperor  more  time  for  his  voyage, 
Francis  was  again  requested  to  name  a  later 
date  for  the  interview,  Henry  informing  Queen 
Katharine  —  who  would  have  been  glad  that  the 
visit  to  France,  which  she  did  all  in  her  power  to 
obstruct,  should  have  been  put  off  altogether  — 
that  he  was  in  hopes  of  a  favourable  answer. 

"The  French  king,"  he  said,  "cannot  yet  know, 
Madam,  how  matters  stand  between  me  and  my 
brother  the  emperor,  your  nephew.  If  he  did,  he 
would  never  grant  the  request  ;  so  the  thing  must 
be  kept  as  secret  as  possible.  On  this  the  queen, 
clasping  her  hands  and  raising  her  eyes  to  heaven, 
gave  laud  unto  God  for  the  grace  she  hoped  He 
would  do  her,  that  she  might  behold  her  nephew, 
which  was  her  greatest  desire  in  the  world.  So 
saying,  she  thanked  the  king  and  made  him  a 
very  low  curtsey.     The  king,   removing  his  bon- 


*Leo  X.  was  still  in  the  prime  of  life;  but  his  extremely 
licentious  habits  did  not  seem  to  promise  length  of  years.  He 
believed  that  he  was  destined  to  an  early  death,  and  had  deter- 
mined that  while  he  lived  he  would  have  a  double  portion  of 
what  he  considered  life's  pleasures. 


178  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

net,  assured  her  he  would  do  all  that  on  his  part 
was  possible."  * 

It  was  hoped  that  Charles  would  land  at  Sand- 
wich about  the  middle  of  May,  when  he  and  the 
king  would  proceed  to  Canterbury,  where  the 
queen  was  to  receive  her  nephew.  In  honour  of 
the  event,  Wolsey  had  obtained  from  the  Pope 
a  plenary  indulgence  and  jubilee,  which  probably 
absolved  the  whole  party  from  any  blame  that 
might  otherwise  attach  to  them  for  the  chicanery, 
falsehood,  and  deceit  employed  to  make  it  appear 
that  the  emperor's  visit  was  an  unexpected  one. 

The  request  for  further  delay  was  refused. 
Francis  desired  that  his  interview  with  Henry 
should  precede,  not  follow,  his  rival's  visit  to 
England,  and  complained  to  Wolsey  of  the  ar- 
rangement between  Henry  VIII.  and  "the  King 
of  Castile  as  a  sort  of  discourtesy.  Wolsey 
replied  that,  "if  the  King  of  Castile  should  offer 
to  land  at  Sandwich,  or  about  those  parts,  to 
visit  his  uncle  and  aunt,  they  being  in  journeying 
toward  the  sea  and  next  thereunto,  it  were  too 
marvellous  ingratitude  to  refuse  the  same." 

The  preparations  meanwhile  were  being  pushed 
forward  with  great  diligence,  and  wondrous  edi- 
fices were  rising,  as  if  by  magic,  on  either  side 
of  the  sandy  borderland  of  the  French  and  Eng- 
lish   possessions.      Yet    more    than    once    it    had 

*See  "Calendar   of    Foreign  State  Papers,   Letters,"  etc.; 
and  Brewer's  Introduction. 


A    HALT  IN   THE   PREPARATIONS  1 79 

seemed  that .  the  great  event,  after  all  the  anxiety 
and  trouble  it  had  occasioned,  was  destined  never 
to  take  place. 

The  enemies  of  the  French  king  had  whispered 
in  Wolsey's  ear — or  he  may  have  feigned  it,  in 
order  to  please  his  royal  mistress  and  alarm  his 
royal  master  —  that  Francis  entertained  sinister 
intentions  towards  the  English  monarch.  That 
under  cover  of  sending  escorts  to  Ardres  to  ac- 
company the  pictures,  statues,  jewels,  tapestry 
hangings,  velvets,  cloth  of  gold,  and  other  finery 
transported  thither  for  the  concealment  of  the 
lath,  plaster,  and  boards  of  those  truly  imposing 
erections  that  Europe  was  to  be  called  upon  "  to 
come,  to  see,  and  admire,"  he  was  really  assem- 
bling a  large  body  of  troops  and  bringing  up 
supplies  of  ammunition.  Several  large  vessels 
were  also  said  to  be  fitting  out  on  the  coasts 
of  Normandy  and  Brittany. 

Until  this  serious  matter  was  satisfactorily  ar- 
ranged—  by  an  assurance  given  under  the  king's 
sign  -  manual  that  no  vessel  should  leave  any  port 
of  Normandy  or  Brittany  before  the  meeting  of 
Francis  and  Henry  had  taken  place,  and  its  attend- 
ant festivities  were  ended  —  no  further  progress  was 
made  towards  completing  the  preparations. 

What  hopes  and  fears,  too,  during  that  interval 
had  agitated  the  breasts  of  those  fair  ladies  who 
were  appointed  to  accompany  Queen  Claude, 
Madame  Louise,  and  the  Duchesse  d'Alencon  to 


l80  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Guines  !  Their  number,  of  course,  was  limited,  if 
only  because  of  the  difficulty  of  providing  a  shel- 
ter for  them,  even  from  the  weather.  Those  alone 
who  were  considered  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
throng  of  sirens  composing  the  gay  court  of  Fran- 
cis I.  were  selected  for  the  special  honour  of  fas- 
cinating the  English  king;  and  many  must  have 
been  the  heartburnings  occasioned  by  so  invidious 
a  distinction. 

All  was  suspense  and  anxiety  as  to  the  result 
of  Wolsey's  newly  raised  obstacles,  suggested, 
probably,  to  afford  Charles  —  detained  in  Spain  by 
the  rebellious  attitude  of  the  people — the  oppor- 
tunity, by  a  short  delay,  of  still  arriving  at  Sand- 
wich before  the  31st,  when  Henry  was  to  enter 
Guines.  If  so,  the  ruse  succeeded.  Europe,  it 
appears,  was  astounded  at  the  condescension  of 
"  the  greatest  monarch  of  the  earth  visiting  a  king 
of  England,"  or,  as  it  was  termed,  "vailing  his 
bonnet  to  him."  The  Pope  could  scarce  conceal 
his  surprise  and  indignation.  The  English  people, 
however,  were  quite  elated  that  the  sovereign  who 
held  in  his  grasp  so  many  sceptres  had  "degraded 
himself"  to  go  out  of  his  way  to  do  so  much 
honour  to  England  and  its  monarch.  They  were 
greatly  pleased,  too,  with  the  "  benignity  of  his 
manner,  and  the  meekness  of  so  high  a  prince  in 
dispensing  with  all  pomp  and  state." 

Henry  VIII.  and  Queen  Katharine  "  left  Green- 
wich  for  the   seaside  on   the   21st   of   May,   and 


THE   FEAST  OF   PENTECOST  I  S  I 

arrived  at  Canterbury  on  the  25th."  On  the 
same  clay  the  emperor's  fleet  was  reported  in 
sight.  Wolsey  being  at  Dover  to  receive  him, 
Charles  landed  there  next  morning,*  and  the  king 
rode  over  to  greet  him  early.  It  was  the  feast  of 
Pentecost,  and  in  order  more  worthily  to  solemnise 
it  and  to  sanctify  the  family  meeting,  the  pious 
uncle  and  nephew  took  horse  for  Canterbury, 
there  to  join  Queen  Katharine,  and  together  to 
celebrate  the  feast. 

Charles  spent  four  days  with  his  kinsfolk. 
What  topics  they  discussed,  what  advice  Wolsey 
gave  them,  or  what  resolutions  they  came  to, 
remained  a  close  secret.  It  got  whispered  about, 
however,  that  the  queen's  ardent  desire  that  the 
hand  of  her  daughter,  the  Lady  Mary,  should  be 
transferred  from  the  dauphin  to  her  nephew  was 
one  subject  of  their  conference.  But  Charles,  it 
was  also  reported,  seemed  inclined  to  a  renewal 
of  his  betrothal  to  Madame  Renee  of  France. 

If  so,  nothing  final  resulted  from  it  ;  but  as  he 
always  took  time  to  make  up  his  mind,  he  may 
have  thought  that,  as  the  young  ladies  were  re- 
spectively but  four  and  nine  years  of  age,  there 
was  no  need  for  a  hasty  decision.  On  the  31st, 
Charles    re -embarked    and    sailed    for     Flanders, 

*He  seems  to  have  had  a  remarkably  quick  passage,  if  the 
date  of  his  departure  from  Corunna  (22d  of  May)  is  given 
correctly  —  wind  in  the  poop  surely  all  the  way — the  vessels 
of  those  days  being  very  slow  sailers. 


1 82  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

where  he  remained  during  Henry's  festive  visit 
to  France. 

The  impression  he  made  on  the  gentlemen  of 
the  English  king's  suite  was  naturally  not  so 
favourable  as  the  opinion  of  the  people.  "  There 
was  something  sad,"  writes  a  contemporary,  "in 
the  expression  of  his  long,  thin  sallow  face,  his 
pale  blue  eyes,  his  projecting  under  jaw,  and  dis- 
coloured, defective  teeth."  There  was  in  his 
manner,  too,  in  those  early  days,  a  want  of  self- 
possession,  an  embarrassment,  which  scarcely 
seemed  to  announce  a  mind  full  of  mighty  proj- 
ects. He  had  also  a  slight  impediment  in  his 
utterance,  afterwards  almost  entirely  overcome, 
and  was  naturally  reserved. 

He  had  studied  several  of  the  modern  languages 
—  English,  French,  Italian,  German,  Spanish. 
His  French  was  that  imperfect  idiom  spoken  in 
the  Netherlands,  then  called  Walloon  French. 
His  proficiency  in  the  other  languages  by  no 
means  justified  the  application  to  himself  of  the 
well  -  known  mot,  attributed  to  him  by  his  pane- 
gyrist, M.  A.  Pichot,  that  "  On  est  autant  de  fois 
Jiommc  qiion  sait  dc  langues  differentes"  M. 
Michelet  says  Henry  was  pleased  that  Charles  was 
of  inferior  stature  and  mean  appearance  ;  that  he 
was  simply  dressed  in  black,  leaving  every  advan- 
tage to  him  ;  declaring  that  he  would  have  no 
judge  but  him  in  his  disputes  with  Francis,  and 
would  sign  whatever  he  approved. 


THE    OLD  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS  1 83 

In  personal  appearance  Charles  V.  doubtless 
showed  to  great  disadvantage  in  the  presence  of 
Henry  VIII.  But  the  want  of  his  stalwart  graces 
might  have  been  condoned  by  the  English  court- 
iers had  Charles's  dress  and  equipage,  plain  and 
unpretending,  corresponded  better  with  his  rank 
of  "Europe's  mightiest  prince."  In  his  retinue 
were  several  of  his  favourite  Flemish  courtiers 
and  ministers,  driven  out  of  Spain  for  their  ra- 
pacity by  the  indignant  Spaniards. 

They  are  said  to  have  carried  out  of  the  country 
nearly  all  the  fine  old  gold  doubloons  of  the  Fer- 
dinand and  Isabella  reign.  "  So  rare  had  they 
become,"  says  Michelet,  "  that  when  a  Spaniard 
by  chance  met  with  one,  he  was  accustomed  to 
take  off  his  hat  to  it,  saying  devoutly,  '  God  pre- 
serve thee,  doubloon  with  the  double  head,  since 
M.  de  Chievres  has  failed  to  find  and  grasp  thee.'  ' 

His  brother  Ferdinand,  two  years  his  junior, 
also  accompanied  him.  Charles  was  unwilling  to 
leave  this  disinherited  youth  in  Spain,  lest  the 
crowns  of  perhaps  both  Aragon  and  Castile  should 
have  been  placed  on  his  head  in  his  absence.  The 
Spaniards  looked  on  Charles  as  a  foreigner  ;  while 
Joanna's  younger  son,  born  and  brought  up 
amongst  them,  and  expecting  to  be  Ferdinand's 
heir,  they  regarded  as  one  of  themselves. 

Henry  VIII.  and  his  queen,  with  their  retinue, 
also  left  Dover  on  the  31st,  and  Guines  was  en- 
tered only  on  the  4th  of  June.     As  their  retinue 


1 84  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

is  said  to  have  consisted  of  5,172  persons  and 
3,465  horses,  one  may  suppose  that  the  greater 
part  had  been  despatched  some  time  before  the 
departure  of  the  royal  visitors.  No  doubt,  in  all 
the  accounts  of  this  famous  event  there  is  much 
exaggeration  ;  so  that  this  very  numerous  retinue 
may  have  included  "  the  body  of  gentlemen  ap- 
pointed to  attend  on  the  king  in  case  of  sur- 
prises," as  well  as  those  employed  in  the  arrange- 
ments for  "espials,"  for  great  distrust  existed  on 
both  sides,  as  the  "  counter-espials  "  of  the  French 
king  testified.  Then  there  was  a  large  number, 
also,  of  workmen  —  a  part  of  whom  may  have 
come  from  Calais  —  who  put  the  wooden  palaces, 
chapels,  and  other  constructions  together,  and  made 
them  "  so  brave  "  with  cloth  of  gold  brocade. 

All  the  grand  altar-cloths,  sumptuous  vestments 
and  ecclesiastical  decorations  that  Henry  VII.  had 
given  to  the  Abbey  of  Westminster,  were  brought 
over  for  the  adornment  of  the  king's  temporary 
chapel  and  the  queen's  oratory ;  while  Francis,  on 
his  part,  ransacked  churches  and  palaces,  and  put 
into  requisition  all  that  could  be  obtained  from  the 
private  hotels  of  the  nobility,  of  Turkey  work,  silk 
and  satin  hangings,  or  rich  embroidery.  Anything, 
in  fact,  that  was  sumptuous  or  costly,  for  the  indis- 
pensable chapel  (piety  and  revelry  walking  hand 
in  hand),  as  well  as  for  the  state  apartments  of 
his  royal  pavilion,  which  was  to  rival  in  splendour 
Henry's  wonderful  summer  palace. 


THE    CARDINAL    VISITS    THE   KING         1 85 

Wolsey,  haughty  and  arrogant,  strove  to  outvie 
both  sovereigns  in  the  pomp  and  magnificence  he 
displayed.  The  proceedings  began  with  the  car- 
dinal's visit  to  the  French  king.  He  rode  a 
splendidly  barded  mule,  and  wore  the  richest  ec- 
clesiastical vestments.  His  arrival  was  announced 
by  a  salvo  of  artillery  and  a  deafening  noise  of 
trumpets,  drums  and  fifes.  The  king,  bonnet  in 
hand,  received  him  with  profound  respect  and 
many  demonstrations  of  affection. 

On  the  following  day  he  returned  my  lord  car- 
dinal's visit,  and,  after  what  seems  a  strangely 
unnecessary  delay  of  three  clays  —  as  though  the 
monarchs  of  England  and  France,  on  the  point  of 
meeting,  were  really  afraid  to  face  each  other  — 
the  long -projected  interview  took  place.  Such 
was  the  extreme  punctiliousness  observed  on  both 
sides,  that  not  until  the  signal  was  given  to  fire 
simultaneously  from  the  castles  of  Guines  and 
Ardres,  might  either  sovereign  advance  a  step  to 
meet  the  other. 

Henry  slowly  rode  towards  the  valley  of  Ardres, 
preceded  by  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  bearing  the 
sword  of  state.  Immediately  behind  him  rode  my 
lord  cardinal,  several  noblemen  following,  amongst 
whom  was  Brandon  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that 
Mary,  the  duchess,  Dowager  -  Queen  of  France, 
accompanied  Queen  Katharine  to  Guines.  Nine 
henchmen,  in  silver  tissue,  formed  the  escort  of 
this  grand  cavalcade,  so  resplendently  arrayed  in 


I  86  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

damasks  and  cloths  of  gold,  velvets,  satins,  feath- 
ers and  jewels,  as  the  costume  of  the  time  re- 
quired for  cavaliers  of  such  high  distinction.  A 
little  in  the  rear  marched  a  rather  numerous 
guard  of  honour. 

"  It  is  worthy  of  remark,"  says  a  French  writer 
(Servan),  "  that  good  taste  was  more  conspicuous 
in  the  English  arrangements  than  in  the  French, 
to  which  was  decreed  the  palm  of  greater  magnifi- 
cence." 

Doubtless  both  the  young  sovereigns  looked 
well.  Henry,  tall  and  muscular,  ruddy  com- 
plexioned,  and  with  an  ample  red  beard,  was 
"  the  most  goodliest  prince,"  says  Hall,  "  that  ever 
reigned  over  the  realm  of  England."  The  French 
accounts  are  scarcely  less  complimentary. 

Henry  and  Francis  were  alike  excellent  horse- 
men ;  though  on  this  occasion  little  could  be  seen 
of  their  horses.  So  brilliant  a  part  did  the  poor 
animals  play  in  this  grand  pageant,  with  their 
housings  of  cloth  of  gold  and  jewelled  trappings, 
that  only  their  eyes  and  a  part  of  their  elaborately 
decorated  tails  were  visible. 

The  description  given  of  the  costume  of  the 
King  of  France  would  lead  one  to  think  that  he 
had  really  designed  to  outshine  his  brother  of  Eng- 
land, at  least  in  the  sumptuousness  of  his  dress. 
The  manner,  too,  in  which  his  retinue  advanced 
was  evidently  intended  to  prepare  for  the  appear- 
ance of  the  king  with  greater  eclat.     The  provost- 


THE  ROYAL   RETINUE  1 87 

marshal  and  his  archers  rode  forward  some  distance 
before  him  to  clear  the  way.  At  short  intervals 
appeared  the  marshals  of  France,  each  with  sev- 
eral attendants,  all  wearing  cloth  of  gold,  plumed 
hats,  and  many  jewels,  and  riding  richly  capari- 
soned horses.  Following  them,  and  even  more 
dazzlingly  arrayed,  were  the  princes  of  the  blood 
with  the  King  of  Navarre,  escorted  by  the  Swiss 
guard  in  "new  liveries,"  and  accompanied  by  their 
drums,  flutes,  hautbois,  and  clarions. 

But  surely  majesty  itself  approaches  !  Not  yet. 
It  is  but  a  cavalier  of  majestic  bearing,  the  grand 
constable  of  France,  Charles  de  Bourbon,  carrying 
his  sword  of  office.  With  him  rides  the  grand 'fcuyer, 
with  the  sword  of  state,  decorated  with  flenr-dc-lys 
in  gold.  There  now  looms  in  sight  a  glittering 
object,  almost  literally  a  mass  of  jewels.  He 
wears  a  full -skirted  doublet  and  short  casaque  of 
violet  velvet  interwoven  with  gold.  His  mantle 
of  cloth  of  gold  is  thickly  incrusted  or  inlaid,  as 
it  seems,  with  rubies  and  emeralds,  pearls,  and  dia- 
monds, and  his  velvet  hat  is  studded  over  with  the 
same  precious  gems,  and  ornamented  with  a  mag- 
nificent white  plume.  Golden  spurs,  gold-fringed 
gloves,  and  square  -  toed  shoes  are  all  glittering 
with  jewels,  which  flash  and  sparkle  also,  in  the 
sunlight  of  a  summer's  morn,  on  the  elaborately 
embroidered  and  gold-fringed  housings  of  his  cur- 
veting charger. 

This     brilliant     personage    is    Francis     I.,    the 


1 88  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

"chevalier  king,"  the  great  patron  of  art,  and 
"father  of  letters."  Like  many  of  the  nobility 
whose  ambition  it  was  to  appear  at  this  meeting 
of  the  kings  with  great  pomp  and  magnificence, 
and  whom  Martin  du  Bellay  describes  as  "  carry- 
ing thither  their  mills,  their  forests,  their  lands 
on  their  shoulders,"  so  Francis,  in  order  to  surpass 
the  English  king  in  the  splendour  of  his  appear- 
ance, and  to  give  a  general  impression  of  his  wealth 
and  grandeur,  had  sold  his  private  domain,  raised 
loans  at  ruinous  rates,  and  grievously  oppressed 
his  suffering  people. 

A  body  of  troops  followed  the  king.  Their 
number  appearing  greatly  to  exceed  the  small 
detachment  attendant  on  Henry,  a  moment  of 
distrust  caused  the  English  party  to  come  to  a 
sudden  halt.  However,  the  two  kings  set  the 
example  of  casting  aside  all  suspicion  by  sepa- 
rating themselves  from  their  retinues,  putting 
spurs  to  their  horses,  and  approaching  each  other 
at  a  gallop,  uncovering  as  they  drew  near,  and 
embracing  each  other  on  horseback.  This  feat 
performed,  they  dismounted,  again  embraced,  and, 
attended  only  by  Wolsey  and  the  chief  favourite, 
Bonnivet,  walked  arm  in  arm  for  private  discourse 
to  a  pavilion.  The  English  and  French  troops 
meanwhile  fraternised,  and  "  drank  to  each  other 
with  good  courage." 

The  fanciful  usages  of  the  courts  of  Love  and 
Beauty  were  revived  ;  the  jousts  and  tournaments 


DWELLING  IN   TENTS  1 89 

to  begin  on  the  morrow  were  arranged,  and  a 
glazed  pavilion  set  apart  for  the  two  queens  con- 
veniently to  view  the  sport,  galleries  being  ar- 
ranged for  the  numerous  fair  dames  of  their 
respective  retinues.  Strictly  for  the  royal  per- 
sonages everything  was,  no  doubt,  made  as  com- 
fortable as  the  many  difficulties  of  the  situation 
permitted.  But  for  the  dwellers  in  those  two  or 
three  thousand  picturesque -looking  white  tents, 
with  a  bundle  of  straw  or  grass  for  carpet  and 
couch,  and  often  only  the  sky  for  a  covering — ■ 
the  winds  making  high  festival  also  during  this 
grand  gathering,  and  causing  sad  havoc  amongst 
those  frail  tenements  —  there  was  nothing  but 
disappointment,  regrets,  and  vexation  of  spirit. 
The  ladies  attending  the  tournaments  displayed 
as  best  they  could,  but  by  no  means  satisfactorily, 
the  rich  and  costly  toilettes  prepared  with  so  much 
toil  and  expense,  and  transported  with  so  much 
difficulty  to  the  scene  of  the  revels. 

"When  the  two  kings,"  says  Michelet,  "opened 
the  tournament,  Francis  gave  Henry  so  vigourous 
a  blow  that  he  was  unhorsed,  and  could  not  rise. 
He  was  taken  up  by  his  attendants  and  carried  to 
his  tent.  The  horse  was  found  to  be  in  as  bad 
a  plight  as  his  master ; "  one  may  even  say  worse, 
for,  according  to  the  same  authority,  "  he  died 
from  the  blow  he  had  received  the  same  night." 
This  unfortunate  commencement  of  the  festivities 
is  not  mentioned  by  other  writers. 


190  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

On  Sunday,  June  the  10th,  Henry  dined  at 
Ardres,  with  Queen  Claude  and  Madame  d'  Alen- 
(jon.  Madame  Louise  of  Savoy,  attended  by  a 
bevy  of  young  ladies,  the  beauties  of  the  court, 
splendidly  arrayed,  received  the  royal  guest.  He 
is  said  to  have  been  so  struck  by  the  loveliness 
of  this  youthful  group  of  fair  damsels,  as  to  have 
lingered  long  to  gaze  on  them  with  admiration. 

At  last  he  awakes  to  a  consciousness  of  the 
presence  of  the  gentlemen-in-waiting,  who  are  to 
conduct  him  to  the  queen's  apartment.  Claude 
rises  from  her  chair  of  state  to  meet  him.  Henry 
falls  on  one  knee,  and,  bonnet  in  hand,  kisses  the 
queen  ;  then  he  salutes  Madame  Louise  and  the 
Duchesse  d'  Alencon  ;  and,  finally,  all  the  ladies  of 
the  company  are  thus  honoured.  A  flourish  of 
trumpets  soon  after  announced  that  the  banquet 
was  served.  This  grand  state  dinner  was  ended 
by  five  o'clock,  when  Henry,  with  many  compli- 
ments to  the  ladies  generally,  and  gracious  speeches 
to  the  queen  in  particular,  took  his  leave,  mount- 
ing his  high -mettled  charger  with  much  graceful 
agility,  prancing  and  curveting  as  he  rode  off,  to 
the  great  admiration  of  the  ladies. 

While  this  pretty  scene  was  enacting  at  Ardres, 
a  similar  one  was  taking  place  at  Guines,  where 
Francis  dined  with  Queen  Katharine  and  her 
ladies ;  leaving,  after  the  banquet,  at  the  same 
hour  as  Henry  left  Ardres.  Each  monarch  thus, 
for  three  successive  Sundays,  played  the  part  of 


INCURRING   A   RISK  191 

hostage  for  the  other's  safety  while  dining  with 
his  wife;  distrust  preventing  them  from  entertain- 
ing each  other,  in  person,  on  territory  not  strictly 
neutral. 

Francis  broke  through  these  restraints  by  one 
morning  paying  Henry  an  unexpected  visit  before 
he  was  up,  to  the  surprise  and  alarm  of  attendants 
French  and  English.  But  Henry  expressed  him- 
self delighted.  The  monarchs  cordially  embraced 
and  exchanged  presents ;  but  the  French  king's 
compliment  was  not  returned  by  the  English  one. 
Fleuranges  thought  it  an  act  of  madness  on  the 
part  of  Francis  to  have  incurred  such  a  risk. 

But  these  monotonous  festivities,  these  daily 
jousts  and  tournaments,  wrestlings,  and  tiltings, 
varied  by  much  feasting,  high  mass,  and  Latin 
sermons,  were  drawing  to  a  close.  Unfortunately 
the  last  day's  sport  was  a  wrestling  match,  at  which 
the  two  kings  and  their  queens,  with  the  princesses 
and  the  ladies  of  their  respective  suites,  were  pres- 
ent, the  ladies  "  benignly  "  awarding  the  prizes  to 
the  victors. 

Many  stout  wrestlers  were  there,  and  the 
pastime  excellent  ;  but  as  the  King  of  France 
had  neglected  to  send  for  any  of  the  famous 
wrestlers  of  Brittany,  the  English  gained  the 
prizes.  The  Kings  of  England  and  France  then 
retired  to  a  pavilion,  where  they  drank  together ; 
and  the  King  of  England,  seizing  the  King  of 
France  by  the  collar,  said,  "  My  brother,  I  must 


192  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

wrestle  with  you,"  and  once  or  twice  strove  to  trip 
up  his  heels.  But  the  King  of  France,  who  is  a 
dexterous  wrestler,  twisted  him  round  and  threw 
him  on  the  earth  with  prodigious  violence.  The 
King  of  England,  rising,  desired  to  renew  the 
contest,  but,  according  to  Fleuranges,  "was  pre- 
vented by  his  lords." 

Thus  Francis,  by  a  rather  impolitic  act,  avenged 
the  defeat  of  the  French  wrestlers.  But  Henry, 
who  was  exceedingly  vain  of  his  own  dexterity  in 
that  sport,  was  deeply  humiliated,  and  the  resent- 
ment he  felt  is  supposed  to  have  aided  Wolsey  in 
preventing  Henry  from  entering  into  any  engage- 
ment with  Francis  prejudicial  to  the  views  of 
Charles  V.* 

They,  however,  separated  on  the  24th  of  June 
with  a  show  of  great  cordiality,  exchanging  costly 
presents,  and  "  embracing  each  other  most  lov- 
ingly." 

The  treaties  concerning  the  restitution  of  Tour- 
nay  and  the  betrothal  of  Mary  and  the  dauphin 
were  confirmed ;  this  being  all  that  was  achieved 
for  France  by  the  king's  prodigal  expenditure  of 
the  resources  of  the  state  on  that  pompous  royal 
meeting  —  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  ;  f  "  that 
final    expression    of   the   Middle  Ages ;    the   last 

*  Henri  Martin. 

t  For  further  details  see  "  RIcmoircs  de  Fleuranges ;  "  also 
"  Calendar  of  State  Papers,"  Foreign  Series,  and  Mr.  Brewer's 
Introduction  to  same. 


FRENCH  AND   ENGLISH  FASHIONS         1 93 

public  display  of  habits  acquired  during  five  cen- 
turies ;  the  efflorescence  of  a  completely  bygone 
age,  which  seemed  not  to  belong  to  the  sixteenth 
century"  (Paul  Lacroix). 

There  was,  however,  one  other  result  which, 
perhaps,  should  not  be  overlooked  —  the  demand 
which  from  that  time  arose  in  England  for  French 
fashions.  The  belles  of  the  French  court  who 
attended  the  festivities  at  Guines  were  not  only 
dressed  superbly  but  with  exceeding  elegance  and 
such  perfect  taste  that  they  greatly  excited  the 
admiration,  and,  perhaps,  a  little  of  the  envy,  of 
the  English  ladies  of  the  suite  of  Queen  Katha- 
rine. Henceforth  the  toilettes  of  the  French  court 
became  the  models  for  that  of  England. 

The  influence  of  Queen  Claude  was  small,  yet 
she  had  endeavoured  to  sustain  the  vogue  of  the 
graceful  fashions  introduced  by  her  mother,  Anne 
of  Brittany,  —  the  long  training  robes,  open  in 
front,  displaying  a  rich  brocade  or  embroidered 
skirt ;  the  hat  or  cap  similar  to  the  Mary  Stuart  ; 
the  flowing  veil  of  Italian  tissue,  with  some 
slight  modifications,  still  retained  their  favour ; 
probably  because  of  their  gracefulness,  and  that 
they  were  generally  becoming. 

The  gallant  knights  and  their  ladies  fair  had  all 
forsaken  Ardres  and  Guines  by  the  evening  of  the 
24th ;  Francis  I.  and  his  court  for  Abbeville ; 
that  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Queen  Katharine  for 
Calais.     From  Calais  the  English  king,  accompa- 


194  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

nied  by  my  lord  cardinal,  repaired  to  Gravelines 
to  return  the  emperor's  visit  to  Dover.  There 
Charles  and  his  brother  Ferdinand,  with  his  min- 
ister Chievres  and  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne, 
awaited  Henry's  arrival.  No  splendour  dignified 
this  meeting  —  the  cloth  of  estate  with  the  black 
eagle  splayed  in  gold  being  the  only  conspicuous 
mark  of  dignity — but  there  is  said  to  have  been 
much  cordiality.  At  all  events,  there  was  more 
attention  to  business  —  for  a  new  convention  be- 
tween Henry  VIII.  and  the  Emperor  Charles  V. 
was  signed  there,  of  which  the  terms  were  far 
from  favourable  to  the  King  of  France. 


Henry  VUL 

Steel  engraving  by  Bosselman. 


w 


CHAPTER    XII. 

A  Round  of  Flying  Visits. — Check  to  the  King  of  France. — 
The  Crown  of  Charlemagne.  —  Compensating  Ferdinand. — 
Ignacio  da  Loyola.  —  Dona  Maria  Pacheco.  —  The  Romance 
of  War. — The  Monk  of  Wittemberg.  —  Burning  the  Papal 
Bull.  —  A  Revolution.  —  Just  and  Generous. —  Cropped 
Hair  and  Flowing  Beard.  —  A  Mark  of  Noble  Birth.  —  More 
Red  Hats  than  Helmets.  —  "  The  Hundred  and  One  Griev- 
ances."—  The  Promise  Given  Must  Be  Kept.  —  "The  Lord 
Is  My  Defence." — "If  I  Am  Wrong,  Prove  It  to  Me."  — 
A  Fearless  Spirit. —  Captured  by  Armed  Horsemen. — A 
Transformation.  —  Mind  and  Body  Benefited.  —  The  De- 
fence of  the  Faith. 

'FTER  those  three  weeks  of  formal,  fatigu- 
ing festivities  of  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of 
Gold,  Francis  and  his  court  left  Abbe- 
ville with  "bag  and  baggage"  for  the  customary 
summer  series  of  flying  visits  from  chateau  to 
chateau,  forest  to  forest  —  a  pelerinage  pantagrue- 
Icsquc,  as  termed  by  Michelet  —  a  moving  romance 
of  gaiety  and  pleasure,  from  which  all  that  was 
serious,  whether  of  affairs  of  state  or  the  concerns 
of  every-day  life,  was  rigourously  banished. 

These  roving  habits  of  Francis  and  his  court 
often  occasioned  considerable  expense  and  much 
vexation  to  foreign  envoys  and  ambassadors,  and 

r95 


196  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

were  the  frequent  subject  of  complaint  in  their 
reports  to  their  respective  governments.  New 
arrivals  never  knew  where  to  find  the  king  —  or 
"that  other  king,"  his  mother  ;  and  business  was 
wholly  at  a  standstill  when  she,  with  her  ladies, 
accompanied  her  son.  On  reaching  the  place 
where  last  they  were  heard  of,  it  was  too  often 
only  to  find  that  the  king  and  his  court  had  just 
struck  their  tents  and  were  on  their  way  to  some 
new  encampment  ;  to  feast  and  make  mirth  on 
some  fresh  grassy  slope,  to  hunt  in  the  forests,  or 
to  disport  themselves  'neath  the  greenwood  tree. 

Notwithstanding  this  rambling  life,  so  fitted  to 
dispel  anxiety  and  care,  Francis  could  not  quite 
forget  his  recent  second  defeat.  Again  the  em- 
peror, King  of  Castile,  had  checkmated  the  King 
of  France,  and  no  advantage  that  he  had  promised 
himself  from  the  interview  with  Henry  VIII.  had 
been  secured.  In  the  midst  of  his  pleasures  his 
thoughts  turned  towards  Leo  X.,  whose  aims  and 
interests  he  believed  would  be  served  by  an  alli- 
ance with  France  against  the  emperor ;  and  an 
ambassador  was  forthwith  despatched  to  Rome. 

That  wary  young  gentleman,  who  carried  such 
a  very  old  head  on  his  youthful  shoulders,  had  not 
been  too  obedient  to  the  urgent  call  of  the  elec- 
toral princes  to  come  and  be  crowned.  He,  indeed, 
began  his  reign  surrounded  by  difficulties  and 
dangers,  all  claiming  immediate  attention.  Rebel- 
lion was    rife    in  Spain,   and    jealousy    of    Spain 


THE    CROWN  OF  CHARLEMAGNE  1 97 

prevailed  in  Flanders  —  his  ministers,  Flemish  and 
Spanish,  being  at  daggers  drawn.  There  was  a 
fitting  provision  to  be  made  for  his  victimised 
brother,  and  a  new  heresy  was  represented  to  him 
as  spreading  so  rapidly  in  the  German  states  as  to 
call  for  measures  prompt  and  peremptory  to  sup- 
press it.  Like  Francis,  Charles  coveted  the  alliance 
of  the  Pope.  He  was  able  to  serve  the  papacy  by 
"  stopping,"  as  he  thought,  the  spread  of  the  "  new 
opinions ; "  the  Pope,  in  return,  being  willing  to 
unite  his  forces  with  his  against  France.  An 
imperial  envoy  was,  therefore,  soon  on  his  way 
to  Rome. 

The  plague  was  then  raging  in  parts  of  Ger- 
many, and  many  persons  had  fallen  victims  to  it  in 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  where  the  coronation,  according  to 
the  Golden  Bull,  was  to  take  place.  Nevertheless, 
the  electors  being  impatient  of  further  delay, 
Charles  bade  adieu  to  his  native  Netherlands,  and 
was  crowned  with  the  crown  of  Charlemagne  on 
the  23d  of  October,  1520,  with  exceeding  pomp 
and  splendour  —  no  previous  imperial  coronation 
having  occurred  since  1439. 

Besides  the  electors  the  rest  of  the  German 
princes  and  the  Roman  officials,  visitors  of  rank 
from  Italy,  Spain,  and  Germany,  filled  the  town 
to  overflowing.  But  no  sooner  was  the  ceremony 
ended  than  all  this  grand  company,  as  though 
seized  by  panic,  fled  from  the  plague-stricken  spot 
and  reassembled  at  Cologne.      Cologne,  now,  then, 


198  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

and  from  all  time,  notorious  for  the  variety  of  its 
mauvaises  odeurs,  each  street  having  one  peculiar 
to  itself,  differing  from  all  the  rest,  had  yet  wholly 
escaped  the  plague  !  While  Charles  was  receiving 
the  homage  of  the  princes  of  the  empire,  and  very 
wisely  ceding  to  his  brother,  in  lieu  of  Aragon,  a 
large  part  of  the  Austrian  dominions  left  by  Max- 
imilian, —  as  well  as  securing  the  consent  of  the 
Electoral  Diet  to  the  regency  of  the  empire,  when 
compelled  to  absent  himself  from  Germany,  being 
confided  to  Ferdinand,  assisted  by  a  council  chosen 
by  the  Diet,  —  Francis,  taking  advantage  of  the 
rebellion  in  Spain,  was  sending  troops  to  Navarre. 

This  step,  though  it  added  fuel  to  the  flames  of 
sedition  then  raging  in  Castile,  was  not  a  formal 
infraction  of  peace.  The  French  troops,  under  the 
command  of  Lesparre,  the  youngest  of  the  three 
brothers  De  Foix,  invaded  Navarre  in  the  name  of 
Henri  d' Albret,  whom  Francis  was  bound  by  the 
treaty  of  Noyon  —  whose  stipulations  Charles  had 
wholly  neglected  to  carry  out  —  to  assist  in  recov- 
ering his  hereditary  dominions,  of  which  Ferdi- 
nand V.  had  deprived  him,  and  which  Charles  had 
promised  to  restore. 

Lesparre,  though  brave,  had  neither  experience 
nor  the  qualities  that  form  a  great  general.  He 
is  said  to  have  owed  his  command  to  the  all 
powerful  influence  of  his  sister,  the  Comtesse  de 
Chateaubriand.  Nevertheless,  in  the  course  of  a 
few  days  the  whole  of  Navarre  was  conquered  in 


IGNACIO   DA    LOYALA  1 99 

a  sort  of  triumphal  march,  the  people  hailing  with 
enthusiasm  the  expulsion  of  the  Spaniards  and 
the  return  of  their  dispossessed  but  legitimate 
sovereign. 

The  somewhat  dilapidated  citadel  of  Pampeluna 
was  held  by  a  small  garrison,  under  a  young  Bis- 
cayan  officer,  Ignacio  da  Loyola,  and  here  some 
resistance  was  encountered.  After  a  few  hours 
of  alternate  attack  and  repulse,  the  citadel 
surrendered,  the  commandant  being  dangerously 
wounded.  To  the  shot  that  disabled  him,  and  to 
the  dreams  of  spiritual  influence  suggested  by  the 
study  of  the  lives  of  saints,  during  a  long  conva- 
lescence, were  due,  after  some  wild  and  perilous 
adventures,  the  organisation  of  the  powerful  So- 
ciety of  Jesus.  In  the  strict  discipline  Loyola 
introduced  into  this  monastic  order,  and  the  title 
of  general  assumed  by  him  as  its  head,  he  revived 
the  regulations  and  subordination  to  authority  to 
which,  as  a  soldier,  he  had  been  subjected  during 
his  short  military  career.  As  a  priest,  he  adopted 
them  as  necessary  to  ensure  the  united  action  of 
those  under  his  control,  and  the  attainment  of  that 
wide-spread  power  and  influence  to  which  he  as- 
pired, both  for  himself  and  the  new  fraternity. 

Lesparre,  elated  by  his  great  success,  was  not 
content  with  having  so  rapidly  and  thoroughly 
accomplished  the  mission  confided  to  him,  but 
must  carry  his  invincible  arms  into  Spain.  He 
had  the    imprudence   to   enter   Castile,  where  he 


200  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

took  the  small  town  of  Lagroiio,  incited,  it  is  said, 
by  the  heroic  Dona  Maria  Pacheco,  who,  after  the 
execution  of  her  husband,  Don  Juan  de  Padilla, 
who  headed  the  insurgent  Castilians,  took  up  arms 
herself  to  avenge  his  death,  and  held  the  citadel 
of  the  Alcazar  of  Toledo  four  months  after  the 
town  had  submitted  to  the  imperial  troops. 

Incited  by  the  courage  of  the  heroine  who 
sought  his  aid,  Lesparre,  young  and  brave,  in- 
stead of  waiting  for  a  reinforcement  from  Henri 
d'Albret,  offered  battle  to  the  imperialists  with  a 
force  far  inferior  in  numbers.  He  was  over- 
whelmed, taken  prisoner,  and  personally  attacked 
with  so  much  fury,  that,  powerless  to  defend  him- 
self, he  fell  dead  in  the  midst  of  his  foes,  his 
armour  battered  and  broken,  his  body  a  mass  of 
wounds.  Pursuing  their  victory,  the  imperialists 
entered  Navarre,  and  Henri  d'Albret's  dominions 
were  lost  to  him  as  speedily  as  they  had  been 
regained,  nothing  remaining  to  him  but  the  small 
town  of  St.  Jean-Pied-de-Port.* 

This  unhappy  yet  romantic  incident  of  the 
changes  and  chances  of  war  was  followed  by 
much  indirect  skirmishing  in  the  Netherlands  and 
elsewhere,  and  menaces  of  invasion  —  yet  without 
formal  declaration  of  hostilities  —  on  the  part  of 
both  Francis  and  the  emperor ;  preludes  of  that 
great    war    between    France    and    the    House    of 

*  Servan,  "  Guerres   des   Francais ;"  H.   Martin,  "  Histoire 
de  France." 


THE   MONK  OF   WITTEMBERG  201 

Austria,  soon  to  burst  forth  and  deluge  Europe 
with  blood.  The  unfortunate  Lesparre's  disaster 
was  some  months  later  avenged,  and  the  cantons 
of  Lower  Navarre,  with  the  province  of  Fon- 
tarabia,  reconquered  by  a  corps  d  'armee  under  the 
Comte  de  Guise  and  Bonnivet,  the  Albret  family 
retaining  henceforth  that  portion  of  their  do- 
minions. 

Meanwhile,  Charles's  first  act  of  administration 
was  to  convoke  a  Diet  of  the  empire.  Conform- 
ably to  the  Papal  Bull,  it  should  have  been  held  at 
Nuremberg;  but,  as  the  plague  was  raging  in  that 
city,  the  emperor  named  Worms,  and  appointed 
the  6th  of  January,  1521,  for  the  first  solemn 
assembly  over  which  he  was  to  preside.  Many 
matters  of  great  public  interest  were  alluded  to  as 
demanding  the  attention  of  the  Diet.  But  the 
one  subject  in  every  one's  thoughts  was  "the 
heresy  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg,"  "the  prog- 
ress of  whose  new  and  dangerous  opinions, 
threatening  to  disturb  the  peace  of  Germany  and 
overturn  the  religion  of  their  ancestors,  the  em- 
peror called  on  the  assembled  princes  to  concert 
with  him  the  proper  measures  for  effectually 
checking." 

The  "heresy"  had,  however,  progressed  far  be- 
yond his  power  to  check.  Luther's  writings  had 
been  burnt  in  some  towns  by  the  agents  of  the 
papacy,  though  it  was  he  rather  than  his  books 
whom  they  wished  to  burn.     The  Pope  had  issued 


202  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

a  Bull  of  excommunication  against  him,  to  which 
Luther  replied,  on  the  ioth  of  December,  by  lead- 
ing a  procession  of  the  professors  and  students  of 
his  university  to  the  market-place  of  Wittemberg, 
where  a  large  pile  of  fagots  had  been  heaped  to- 
gether. To  this,  the  oldest  of  the  professors 
applied  a  burning  brand.  When  the  flames  began 
to  rise,  Luther  advanced  and  threw  into  them  the 
books  of  the  Canon  Law,  the  Decretals,*  the 
Clementines,!  and  the  "Extravagantes."  % 

When  these  were  consumed,  Luther  took  the 
Pope's  Bull  of  excommunication,  and,  holding  it 
up,  said,  "As  thou  hast  vexed  the  spirit  of  the 
Lord,  may  eternal  fire  vex  and  consume  thee  ! "  at 
the  same  time  casting  it  into  the  flames.  All  the 
spectators  applauded,  and,  the  last  vestige  of  the 
Bull  having  disappeared,  they  accompanied  Luther 
back  to  his  university. 

That  he  dared  take  such  a  step,  showed  that 
the  time  for  checking  him  and  his  doctrine  had 
long  since  passed.  His  object  in  taking  it,  as  he 
explained,  was  by  a  solemn  act  to  declare  that  he 
separated  himself  from  the  Pope  and  the  Church  ; 
that  he  accepted  the  excommunication  pronounced 
by  Rome,  and  to  make  known  to  the   Christian 


*The  Pope's  decrees. 

t  Ordinances  of  Clement  V. 

X  A  collection  of  fundamental  rules  or  principles  of  certain 
popes  added  to  the  body  of  the  common  law.  (Merle  d'Au- 
bigne.) 


A    REVOLUTION  203 

world  that  henceforth  there  was  war  to  the  death 
between  him  and  the  papacy. 

While  these  stirring  scenes  were  enacting  in 
Germany,  the  fermentation  they  excited  spreading 
even  to  Switzerland  —  where  Ulric  Zwingle  was 
already  preaching  doctrines  similar  to  Luther's  — 
others,  of  a  very  different  kind,  occupied  the 
court  of  France. 

On  the  6th  of  January,  the  same  day  that 
Charles  V.  had  appointed  for  an  assembly  of  the 
princes  of  the  empire,  an  accident  occurred  to 
Francis  I.  that  for  a  while  threatened  to  change 
the  aspect  of  affairs  in  Europe.  It,  however,  only 
occasioned  a  revolution  in  the  fashion  of  wearing 
the  hair  and  beard. 

Francis  and  the  court  had  repaired  to  the 
chateau  of  Madame  Louise  at  Romorantin,  in 
Berry,  to  amuse  themselves  with  the  revelry  of 
the  carnival.  On  the  feast  of  the  Epiphany,  or 
Fete  des  Rois,  a  "King  of  the  bean,"  or  Twelfth- 
night  king,  having  been  made  by  one  of  the 
party  assembled  in  the  rooms  of  M.  de  Saint  Pol 
(brother  of  the  Due  de  Vendome),  Francis  sent 
one  of  his  courtiers  to  challenge  this  king  in  his 
name.  He  then  proceeded,  accompanied  by 
several  of  his  favourite  companions,  to  besiege 
his  majesty  of  the  bean  in  his  castle,  whence  the 
besiegers  were  repulsed  with  snowballs  from  a  bal- 
cony. This  seasonable  ammunition  coming  to  an 
end,  there  was  a  demand  for  surrender,  when  some 


204  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

one  of  the  besieged  party  ("quelquc  mal  avis/" 
Fleuranges  says)  seized  a  brand  from  the  hearth 
and  threw  it  amongst  their  assailants.  It  fell  on 
the  king's  head.  Francis  was  severely  hurt  (grieve- 
mcnt  bless/);  and  for  some  days  the  surgeons  were 
doubtful  of  his  recovery.  A  report  rapidly  spread, 
both  in  France  and  abroad,  first  that  the  king 
was  dead,  next  that  blindness  had  resulted  from 
the  blow.  Yet  he  seems  really  to  have  suffered 
but  little,  and  speedily  silenced  those  rumours  by 
receiving  the  ambassadors  who  accompanied  the 
court. 

He  would  not  allow,  says  Fleuranges,  any 
inquiry  to  be  made  by  whom  the  brand  was 
thrown.  "  He  had  begun  the  foolery,"  he  said, 
"and  must  take  his  share  of  its  consequences." 
This  was  only  just ;  but,  considering  what  were 
the  ideas  and  customs  of  the  period,  a  generous 
view  of  the  occurrence  also.  The  thoughtless  act 
was  attributed,  not  at  the  time  but  many  years 
after,  to  Montgomery  of  Lorges,  the  father  of  the 
Montgomery  who  caused  the  death  of  Henry  II. 
in  an  encounter  at  a  tournament.  It  may  have 
been  so;  yet  it  was  merely  conjecture,  simply  a 
suggestion,  which,  after  the  second  event,  was  as- 
sumed as  a  fact  and  an  extraordinary  coincidence. 

But  for  the  above  misadventure,  Francis  had 
intended  to  take  the  queen  and  his  sister  and 
mother,  with  the  ladies  of  the  court,  in  great  state 
to  Milan  ("  Bourgeois  de  Paris  "). 


CROPPED  HAIR   AND   FLOWING  BEARD   205 

A  closely  shaven  beard  and  long  flowing  locks 
had  been  the  fashion  in  France  for  several  genera- 
tions. But  for  more  effectually  dressing  the 
king's  wounds,  it  became  necessary  to  cut  off  his 
hair.  On  his  recovery  he  continued  to  wear  it 
cropped,  but  allowed  his  beard  to  grow,  as  was 
the  custom  of  the  Italians.  His  courtiers  followed 
his  example,  and  gradually  short  hair  and  long 
beards  became  general  in  France  —  one  class  of 
the  community,  the  magistracy,  excepted. 

They  objected  to  the  innovation  as  contrary  to 
the  dignity  of  the  profession  ;  and  for  a  long  time 
the  Parliament  prohibited  its  members  from  con- 
forming to  this  infringement  of  ancient  usages 
(nouvelletc),  as  in  legal  language  they  termed  this 
change  of  fashion.  By  and  by,  however,  as 
younger  men  supplanted  the  elder  gentlemen  of 
the  long  robe,  the  long  beards  also  got  into  Parlia- 
ment, and  were  soon  in  a  majority,  before  which 
the  remaining  dissentients  at  last  gave  way. 
Beards  continued  in  favour  until  the  seventeenth 
century,  when  the  magistracy,  again  opposing  the 
change  of  fashion  as  infra  dig.,  declined  as  long 
and  as  resolutely  to  part  with  their  beards  as 
their  predecessors  had  declined  to  adopt  them. 

Servan,*  referring  to  the  warrior  Pope,  Julian  II., 
remarks  that  "  he  was  the  first  Pope  who  wore  a 
beard  ;  thinking  by  that  singularity  to  inspire  the 
people  with  greater  respect  for  him.     The  Italian 

*"Gucvrcs  en  Italic T 


206  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

nobility  imitated  the  Pope  ;  and  from  that  time," 
says  Servan,  "  beards  became  generally  worn  at  the 
European  courts."  Boys  continued  to  wear  their 
hair  long,  except  over  the  forehead,  where  it  was 
cut  short  and  straight,  as  is  seen  in  old  pictures, 
and  worn  by  some  children  of  the  present  day. 
But  in  the  sixteenth  century  it  was  the  distinguish- 
ing mark  of  children  of  noble  birth,  and  permitted 
to  no  other. 

To  return  to  the  important  events  which  then 
agitated  Europe.  The  Diet  convoked  by  Charles  V. 
for  the  6th  of  January  did  not  assemble  at  Worms 
till  the  28th.  Great  preparations  were  needed, 
both  public  and  private,  to  accommodate  within 
its  walls  the  large  number  of  princes  of  the 
empire  who  had  announced  an  intention  of  being 
present.  They  knew  so  little  of  their  young 
emperor  that  all  were  anxious  to  see  and  hear  him. 
What  would  he  do  with  respect  to  Luther,  placed 
as  he  was  between  Luther's  protector,  Frederick  of 
Saxony,  to  whom  he  owed  the  coveted  imperial 
crown,  and  the  Pope's  nuncio,  who  called  on  him 
to  issue  a  decree  that  a  second  Bull  of  excommuni- 
cation, of  which  he  was  the  bearer,  be  rigourously 
"arried  out  ? 

This  was  the  burning  question  ;  and  friends  and 
foes  alike  among  the  princes  were  drawn  by  it  to 
Worms.  All,  too,  proposed  to  attend  in  state, 
and  even  to  make  some  sacrifices,  like  the  French 
nobility  at  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  for  the 


MORE   RED   HATS    THAN  HELMETS        207 

sake  of  appearing  at  the  Diet  with  eclat.  It  is 
stated,  in  order  to  give  an  idea  of  the  concourse  of 
visitors  at  Worms,  that  the  young  landgrave, 
Philip  of  Hesse,  was  attended  by  a  retinue  of  six 
hundred  cavaliers  in  splendid  uniforms ;  other 
princes  also,  the  sovereign  rulers  of  small  states, 
either  to  gratify  their  vanity  or  in  compliment  to 
the  emperor,  appearing  with  a  more  or  less  numer- 
ous train  of  officers  and  servitors. 

The  emperor  was  less  pretending.  Neverthe- 
less, on  this  occasion  he  deemed  it  necessary  to 
enter  Worms  with  his  brother,  the  Archduke 
Ferdinand,  more  brilliantly  attended  than  usual  — 
"the  red  hats  of  cardinals  "  (as  Ulrich  von  Hutten 
wrote  to  Charles)  "  being  more  conspicuous  in  his 
retinue  than,  for  a  mighty  prince,  the  more  appro- 
priate plumes  and  helmets  of  valiant  warriors." 

The  Diet  was  opened  by  the  emperor  with  a 
haughty  speech,  in  which  he  expressed  his  desire 
"  to  revive  the  fallen  glory  of  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire,  and  his  hope  to  succeed  in  doing  so  by 
means  of  the  numerous  kingdoms  over  which  he 
bore  sway,  and  the  aid  of  his  powerful  alliances  " 
(H.  Martin).  The  edict  for  executing  the  Papal 
Bull  being  laid  before  the  Diet,  was  responded 
to  by  the  vehement  complaints  of  the  electors 
against  the  Pope  and  clergy ;  and  a  document 
was  subsequently  prepared  and  laid  before  the 
emperor  enumerating  these  complaints,  and  called 
"The  Hundred  and  One  Grievances." 


208  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Luther's  presence  being  desired,  he  was  or- 
dered by  Charles  to  appear  at  Worms  and  answer 
for  himself,  "  whether  or  not  he  adhered  to  the 
opinions  which  had  drawn  on  him  the  censures 
of  the  Church."  A  safe -conduct  from  the  em- 
peror and  princes  was  sent  to  him  by  an  impe- 
rial herald,  who  returned  with  Luther  to  Worms. 
His  friends  were  alarmed.  Remembering  the  fate 
of  Huss,  they  would  have  dissuaded  him  from 
recklessly  rushing,  as  they  thought,  into  danger. 
"I  should  go,"  he  replied,  "though  as  many  devils 
as  there  are  tiles  on  the  houses  of  Worms  had 
combined  together  to  oppose  me."  Luther  was 
then  in  feeble  health,  and  so  ill  when  he  set  out 
that  he  was  scarce  able  at  times  to  continue  his 
journey. 

He  arrived  on  the  16th  of  April.  A  rumour 
having  spread  that  the  famous  "  monk  of  Wittem- 
berg  "  was  on  his  way  to  Worms,  people  from  far 
and  near  flocked  to  see  him.  His  journey  had 
been  a  sort  of  triumphal  progress,  and  above  two 
thousand  persons  waited  at  the  gates  of  Worms 
to  receive  him,  amongst  them  princes  and  nobles, 
many  priests  who  shared  his  opinions,  and  men 
of  eminent  learning.  Some,  of  course,  were  influ- 
enced by  mere  curiosity.  Others,  and  the  far 
greater  part,  were  lead  thither  by  sympathy,  and 
by  admiration  of  the  unflinching  courage  of  the 
humble  monk  who  so  boldly  defied  the  papacy, 
and  fearlessly  appeared   in   the  presence   of  the 


THE  PROMISE    GIVEN  MUST  BE   KEPT  209 

powerful  monarch  whom  papal  agents  were  urg- 
ing to  disregard  his  safe-conduct,  and  at  once  de- 
liver the  obstinate  heretic  into  their  hands.  To 
this  Charles  is  said  to  have  simply  replied,  "  The 
promise  given  must  be  kept." 

On  the  1 8th  —  a  day's  delay  having  been 
granted  at  Luther's  request  —  the  emperor,  the 
electors  and  princes  of  Germany,  the  Archduke 
Ferdinand,  Charles's  Flemish  and  Spanish  min- 
isters, the  ambassadors  —  amongst  whom  were 
those  of  France  and  England  —  the  Pope's  nun- 
cios, cardinals,  archbishops,  bishops,  abbots,  priors, 
and  other  priests,  were  assembled  in  the  town  hall 
of  Worms,  where  Luther  was  cited  to  appear  to 
reply  to  two  questions  :  "  Was  he  the  author  of 
certain  heretical  books  ?  and  was  he  prepared  to 
retract  the  opinions  set  forth  in  them  ?" 

From  the  hotel  of  the  Knights  of  Rhodes  — ■ 
where  Luther  was  lodged  by  the  Elector  Fred- 
erick of  Saxony  —  to  the  town-hall,  so  dense  was 
the  crowd  that  the  imperial  guards,  with  their  hal- 
berds, with  difficulty  opened  a  passage  for  him. 
Not  only  the  streets  were  crowded,  but  the  roofs 
of  the  houses  were  covered  with  spectators.  The 
entry  of  Charles  V.  excited  far  less  interest  than 
that  of  the  poor,  weary-looking  monk  on  his  way 
to  his  condemnation  ;  for  all  believed  that  not  his 
books  alone  would  be  committed  to  the  flames, 
but  that  the  stake  was  his  own  doom. 

Jeers  and  gibes,  mingled  with  words  of  consola- 


2IO  THE    COURT  OE  FRANCE 

tion,  meet  his  ear ;  but  he,  unmoved,  utters  only, 
"The  Lord  is  my  defence."*  At  last  he  is  in 
the  presence  of  the  young  monarch  who  is  to 
decide  his  fate,  who  has  already  declared  that  "  he 
will  support  the  old  faith."  But  Charles's  zeal  is 
not  so  ardent  as  Rome  had  hoped  to  find  it.  His 
political  views  clashed  with  his  piety,  and  his  min- 
isters had  made  known  to  the  nuncio  that  "  the 
emperor  would  act  towards  the  Pope  as  the  Pope 
was  inclined  to  act  towards  him  ;  but  that  he  in 
no  case  proposed  to  assist  an  ally  of  the  King  of 
France."  f 

Luther,  repressing  his  natural  impetuosity,  had 
acknowledged  in  mild,  respectful  terms,  on  the 
previous  day,  that  the  books  of  which  the  titles 
were  read  to  him  were  his  writing.  Charles  had 
then  contemptuously  remarked,  "  that  certainly 
such  a  man  as  that  would  never  make  a  heretic 
of  him."  The  question  of  a  retractation  of  the 
doctrines  contained  in  those  books  was  now  to 
be  answered. 

Forcibly  and  eloquently  Luther  defended  those 
doctrines  ;  his  enthusiasm,  as  he  proceeded,  over- 
coming the  bodily  weakness  from  which  he  was 
then  suffering.  "  If  I  am  wrong,"  he  said  —  "and, 
as  I  am  but  a  man,  of  course  I  may  be  —  prove  it 
to  me  by  the  writings  of  the  prophets  and  the 
apostles  ;  and  when  convinced  I  will  immediately 

*  Merle  d'Aubigne,  "  Reformation." 
t  Pallavicini,  quoted  by  Henri  Martin. 


A    FEARLESS  SPIRIT  2 1  I 

retract  all  my  errors,  and  be  the  first  to  cast  my 
writings  into  the  flames." 

Luther  had  spoken  in  German.  When  he  con- 
cluded he  appeared  to  be  nearly  prostrated  by 
fatigue,  emotion,  and  heat  (every  available  inch 
of  standing-room  having  been  taken  possession 
of,  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  exclude  the  people). 
His  discourse  had  made  a  deep  impression ;  but 
the  emperor,  it  was  said,  disliked  the  German  lan- 
guage, and  Luther  was  ordered  to  repeat  his  dis- 
course in  Latin.  Several  of  the  German  princes 
objected,  and  sent  him  word  that,  if  too  much 
exhausted,  what  he  had  said  sufficed. 

After  a  few  minutes,  the  agitation  of  the  assem- 
bly beginning  to  subside,  Luther  resumed  his  de- 
fence in  Latin,  and  with  the  same  clearness  and 
force  of  expression,  the  same  warmth  and  fluency  as 
had  characterised  his  discourse  in  his  native  tongue. 
A  feeling  of  admiration  pervaded  the  assembly. 
The  Chancellor  of  Treves,  who  spoke  for  the  Diet, 
perceiving  this,  said,  "  The  question  put  to  you  is, 
'  Will  you  or  not  retract  ? '  You  have  not  replied 
to  it."  But  Luther  declared  that  he  neither  could 
nor  would  retract,  unless  convinced  of  error  by 
the  witness  of  Scripture.  As  that  was  refused, 
he  had  no  other  answer.  "  I  am  in  your  hands  ; 
God  assist  me!"  he  said,  "for  I  can  retract 
nothing." 

"  The  monk  speaks  with  a  fearless  spirit,  and 
unshaken  courage  !  "  exclaimed  the  emperor.     Ad- 


212  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

miration  had  overcome  anger,  and  he  might  with 
truth,  perhaps,  have  added,  in  words  similar  to 
those  of  King  Agrippa  to  Paul  —  "  Almost  thou 
persuadest  me  to  be  a  heretic." 

Luther  was  then  ordered  to  retire,  the  assembly- 
remaining  to  deliberate  on  the  steps  to  be  taken 
for  punishing  this  pestilent  heretic.  A  servant 
of  the  old  Duke  Erick  of  Brunswick  followed 
Luther  from  the  hall  with  a  large  goblet  of  Lim- 
beck beer,  and  a  message  from  his  master  desiring 
the  monk  to  drink  and  refresh  himself,  assuring 
him,  also,  that  he  had  tasted  the  beer  before 
sending  it. 

The  German  princes,  friends  and  foes,  would 
not  allow  the  violation,  as  proposed  by  the  nuncio 
Aleandro,  of  Luther's  safe  conduct.  A  repetition 
of  the  fate  of  John  Huss,  in  the  person  of  Luther, 
"  should  not  again  bring  disgrace  and  misfortune 
on  Germany."  So  "  the  monk  of  Wittemberg " 
was  allowed  to  depart ;  but  three  days  after,  a 
very  severe  decree  against  him  was  obtained  from 
the  emperor.  This  was  of  more  force  than  a  papal 
Bull,  which,  being  published  in  Italy,  could  not  be 
executed  in  Germany.  He,  meanwhile,  was  jour- 
neying homeward  in  the  company  of  friends  ;  but, 
when  arrived  on  the  borders  of  the  forest  of  Thu- 
ringia,  there  occurred  that  well-known  romantic 
incident  in  his  career  —  his  capture. 

Five  horsemen,  armed,  and  wearing  masks,  sud- 
denly  issued   from   the   woods.     Seizing   Luther, 


A    TRANSFORMATION  213 

they  placed  him  on  a  horse,  and  galloped  off  with 
him  into  the  forest,  making  many  turnings  and 
windings  and  changes  of  route  to  lead  possible 
pursuers  astray  as  to  their  destination.  But  Lu- 
ther's companions  were  too  much  alarmed  to 
pursue.  They  saw  in  the  occurrence  the  hand 
of  the  papacy,  and,  making  the  best  of  their  way 
to  Wittemberg,  spread  the  report  in  every  village 
and  town  on  their  route  of  his  having  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  his  enemies.  A  cry  of  astonishment 
and  indignation  rose  throughout  Germany  on  the 
part  of  his  friends,  of  fiendish  delight  on  that  of 
his  foes. 

Not  until  night  was  closing  in  did  Luther's 
captors  venture  to  approach  the  isolated,  frowning 
old  fortress  of  Wartbourg,  to  which  they  were 
bearing  their  prisoner.  The  drawbridge  being 
passed,  was  immediately  drawn  up  ;  the  bolts  and 
bars  of  the  ponderous  doors  removed,  were  re- 
placed as  soon  as  he  had  crossed  the  threshold. 
An  apartment  had  been  prepared  for  him,  also 
a  change  of  costume,  with  a  feathered  hat,  spurs, 
and  sword.  The  friar's  frock  and  hood  were  cast 
aside,  and  "the  monk  of  Wittemberg"  was  trans- 
formed almost  —  as  he  said,  beyond  his  own  rec- 
ognition —  into  a  cavalier ;  while,  as  a  further 
disguise,  that  none  of  the  inmates  of  the  fortress 
might  recognise  him,  his  hair  and  beard  were  to  be 
allowed  to  grow. 

He  now  knew  that  the  masked  cavaliers  were 


214  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

his  friends,  and  that  the  scheme  to  save  him  from 
the  fate  to  which  he  had  been  doomed  by  emperor 
and  Pope  was  devised  by  the  Elector  Frederick  of 
Saxony,  who  supplied  him  with  all  that  he  required, 
or  that  was  agreeable  to  him,  while  in  his  solitary 
retreat.  He  remained  at  Wartbourg  nearly  a  year, 
rest  and  quietude  benefiting  both  mind  and  body. 
The  secret  of  his  retreat  was  known  to  only  his 
most  trusted  friends ;  for  others  he  had  disap- 
peared from  the  scene  of  the  world.  Rome  ap- 
parently had  triumphed,  and  the  cause  of  reform, 
as  some  feared,  was  lost.  But  his  opinions  con- 
tinued to  gain  ground,  and  the  light  of  truth  be- 
came more  widely  diffused.  The  decree  against 
him  became  by  and  by  a  dead  letter ;  meanwhile, 
the  courageous  reformer  revived  the  spirits  of  his 
disheartened  followers  by  publishing  several  trea- 
tises in  confutation  of  his  adversaries.  (See  Merle 
d'Aubigne,  "  Reformation.") 

He  seems  to  have  been  disappointed  and  a  little 
grieved,  during  his  sojourn  in  what  is  called  his 
Patmos,  at  the  issuing  of  an  edict  by  the  Univer- 
sity of  Paris,  condemning  his  doctrines.  He  had 
once  thought  to  be  able  to  preach  them  there  with 
freedom  ;  but  Francis,  no  less  intolerant  of  reform 
than  his  rival  Charles,  had  prohibited  the  introduc- 
tion of  Luther's  writings  into  France. 

At  about  the  same  time,  too,  Henry  VIII.  wrote 
his  reply  to  Luther's  "  Babylonish  Captivity." 
The  praises  lavished  on  it  by  his  favourites  and 


THE  DEFENDER    OF  THE   FAITH  21$ 

courtiers  flattered  his  vanity  greatly.  It  was  pre- 
sented to  the  Pope  in  full  consistory.  Leo  re- 
warded the  royal  author's  pious  zeal  in  defence  of 
popery  with  the  title  of  "Defender  of  the  Faith" 
—  an  appellation  so  strangely  retained  by  English 
sovereigns  after  the  erring  faith  defended  was 
abjured  by  both  sovereign  and  people. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Rigid  Ideas  of  Morality.—  As  Insensible  as  Ever. —  Bent  on 
Wearing  the  Papal  Crown. —  War  Begins  in  Earnest. — 
Humiliating  the  Constable. —  A  Victory  Missed.  —  An 
Anxious  Mother's  Fears. —  The  Mother  and  the  Mistress. — 
Tardy  Repentance. —  Promises  and  Assurances. —  Despotic 
Measures. —  Dying  of  Laughter. —  A  Sudden  Holy  Inspira- 
tion. —  Driven  Out  of  Lombardy.  —  The  Proceeds  of 
Her  Savings.  —  Stormy  Family  Scenes.  —  Vengeance 
Accomplished. 

jHE  death  of  Suzanne  de  Beaujeu,  wife 
of  the  constable  Charles  de  Bourbon, 
which  occurred  in  the  spring  of  1521, 
was  an  event  that  would  scarcely  seem  likely  to 
influence  the  affairs  of  France,  whether  for  good 
or  evil. 

It,  however,  revived  in  the  depraved  mind  of 
Louise  of  Savoy  the  vain  hope  she  yet  cherished 
of  subduing  the  cold  disdain,  and  exciting  a  tender 
feeling  in  the  breast  of  the  man  who  had  hitherto 
treated  her  advances  with  haughty  indifference. 
A  restraint  was  now  removed,  as  she  flattered 
herself,  that,  according  to  the  constable's  rigid 
ideas  of  morality  —  the  source  of  so  much  amuse- 
ment and  banter  to  the  less  severe  moralists  of 
216 


AS  INSENSIBLE   AS  EVER  217 

the  court  of  France — might  have  prevented  him 
from  reciprocating  her  love. 

Francis  sympathised  with  that  loving  injured 
mother,  even  as  she  would  have  sympathised  with 
him,  had  any  lady  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  his  plead- 
ings and  treated  with  supreme  contempt  his  prot- 
estations of  devoted  love.  He  had  long  cherished 
an  antipathy  towards  the  grave  constable,  but  was 
induced  by  his  mother's  infatuation  to  tolerate 
him. 

The  time  of  deep  mourning  may  in  strictness, 
perhaps,  be  said  to  have  passed ;  for  the  constable 
had  been  some  months  a  widower.  It  was  not 
known  that  he  had  yet  sought  the  love  of  any 
lady  of  the  court ;  but  whispers  again  reached  the 
king's  ear  that  the  countess  smiled  more  gra- 
ciously on  him  than  ever.  Whether  he  responded 
to  her  smiles  or  not,  it  was  certain  that  he  was  as 
insensible  as  ever  to  the  gracious  encouragements 
of  Madame  Louise.  But,  if  she  was  powerless  to 
inspire  him  with  love  for  her,  she  could  find  the 
means  of  wounding  his  self-love  and  grievously 
vexing  his  haughty  spirit. 

A  congress  is  being  held  at  Calais,  and  Wolsey 
presides  —  the  mediation  of  Henry  VIII.  having 
been  sought  to  settle,  if  possible,  the  rival  claims 
of  Francis  I.  and  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  Not- 
withstanding, both  were  preparing  for  war,  so 
small  was  the  expectation  of  an  amicable  arrange- 
ment   being   arrived    at.      Charles    demanded    his 


2l8  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

heritage  of  Burgundy  and  release  from  doing 
homage,  as  his  ancestors  had  done,  to  the  crown 
of  France  for  his  counties  of  Flanders  and  Artois. 
Francis  required  the  cession  of  Naples,  and  the 
restitution  of  Navarre  to  Henri  d'  Albret.  Both 
sovereigns  had  made  a  secret  treaty  with  the  Pope, 
—  Charles  to  invade  Milan  and  Genoa,  and,  aided 
by  papal  troops,  to  drive  the  French  out  of  Italy ; 
Francis  similarly  aided,  to  wrest  the  kingdom  of 
Naples  from  Charles. 

The  propositions  on  both  sides  were,  therefore, 
rejected.  Wolsey,  bent  on  wearing  the  papal 
crown,  was  incapable  of  judging  between  them 
impartially,  or  of  recommending  any  solution  of 
their  difficulties  not  wholly  in  favour  of  Charles, 
to  whom  he  looked  to  support  his  pretensions  to 
sit  in  the  chair  of  Saint  Peter.  Consequently, 
increased  irritation  on  the  part  both  of  Charles 
and  Francis  was  the  only  result  of  the  congress. 

As  soon  as  his  labours  were  ended,  Wolsey  set 
off  for  Bruges,  where  Charles  was  then  staying. 
My  lord  cardinal  was  received  with  as  great  cere- 
mony and  state  as  though  he  had  been  Henry  of 
England  in  person,  and  a  treaty  was  concluded  by 
which  Henry  undertook  to  invade  France  on  the 
side  of  Picardy  with  an  army,  40,000  strong,  while 
Charles,  with  an  equal  number,  was  to  enter 
France  on  the  side  of  Spain.  Of  course,  there 
was  the  usual  marriage  contract,  which  gave  so 
much  force  to  the  treaties  of  that  day. 


WAR  BEGINS  IN  EARNEST  219 

The  little  Princess  Mary,  the  heiress-presump- 
tive of  the  throne — betrothed  to  the  dauphin  with 
such  extraordinary  splendour,  festivity,  and  expense 
on  both  sides  of  the  channel  —  was  now  trans- 
ferred to  the  emperor,  to  the  great  satisfaction,  at 
least,  of  Queen  Katharine ;  while  Henry  then 
flattered  himself  that  on  him  was  to  rest  the  glory 
of  reannexing  to  the  crown  of  England  the 
ancient  heritage  of  the  English  monarchs  in 
France. 

War  now  began  in  earnest  ;  the  struggle  of 
arms  side  by  side  with  the  struggle  of  ideas, —  the 
conflagration  soon  enveloping  all  Europe, —  Soly- 
man  "the  Magnificent"  taking  possession  of 
Rhodes, —  fighting  in  the  north,  the  south,  the 
east,  the  west  going  on  at  the  same  time  and  with 
the  most  savage  ferocity.  "One  might  believe  at 
this  crisis,"  writes  M.  Michelet,  "  that  Europe 
was  about  to  sink  into  profound  barbarism.  Yet, 
so  far  from  it,  the  delicate  blossom  of  the  arts  and 
civilisation  grew  and  strengthened  itself  in  the 
midst  of  these  violent  conflicts,  which  seemed 
ready  to  crush  it." 

Charles  had  blockaded  Tournay  and  besieged 
Mezieres.  To  oppose  him,  an  army  was  advanc- 
ing, which  the  King  had  left  Chambord  to  head 
in  person.  To  the  constable  —  one  of  the  ablest 
generals  of  that  day  — ■  belonged,  in  virtue  of  his 
office,  the  command  of  the  vanguard  of  a  royal 
army. 


220  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

To  his  surprise,  he  found  that  this  honourable 
post  had  been  given  by  the  king  to  the  Due 
d'Alencon,  whose  command  was  that  of  the  rear 
guard.  The  duke  had  not  sought  to  supplant  the 
constable.  He  possessed  no  military  talent,  and 
was  not  ambitious  of  military  fame.  But  he  was 
first  prince  of  the  blood,  a  degree  nearer  the 
throne  than  Charles  de  Bourbon,  and  ought  to  be 
a  degree  above  him  in  command  ;  so  suggested 
Madame  Louise  to  her  son.  It  offered  an  oppor- 
tunity of  humiliating  Bourbon,  of  affronting  him 
in  the  presence  of  the  whole  army,  by  an  apparent 
slight  on  his  ability  as  a  commander,  of  which  he 
would  probably  complain,  and  thus  open  a  way  for 
further  indignities  and  the  widening  of  the  breach 
between  him  and  the  king. 

Francis,  like  an  obedient  son,  adopted  the  views 
of  his  excellent  mother,  who  had  never  thwarted 
him  in  any  of  the  vices  he  was  inclined  to,  and  in 
whose  hands  he  had  become  a  mere  automaton. 
The  constable  was  well  aware  whence  the  affront 
came,  and,  dissembling  his  resentment,  would  not 
condescend  to  complain. 

On  the  departure  of  the  king,  Louise  resumed 
the  government  of  the  kingdom  as  regent. 
Though  this  title  was  assumed  and  laid  aside 
during  the  absence  or  presence  of  the  king,  the 
power  it  gave  her  she  at  no  time  relinquished,  and 
to  the  end  of  her  life  was,  in  fact,  more  the 
sovereign  of  the  country  than  Francis  himself,  his 


A    VICTORY  MISSED  221 

ministers  being  for  the  most  part,  like  her  chan- 
cellor, Duprat,  favourites  of  her  own  appointing. 

The  Chevalier  Bayard  had  already  compelled 
the  imperialists  to  raise  the  seige  of  Mezieres,  and 
the  royal  army,  it  appears,  might,  on  its  arrival, 
have  gained  a  decisive  victory  over  Charles's 
troops,  had  a  favourable  opportunity  that  pre- 
sented itself  of  charging  and  routing  them  been 
taken  immediate  advantage  of.  It  was  strongly 
urged  by  the  constable,  which  sufficed  to  induce 
Francis  to  adopt  other  counsels,  though  Bourbon's 
advice  was  supported  by  that  of  such  experienced 
generals  as  La  Palice  and  La  Tremouille. 

Francis  had  preferred  to  listen  to  General  de 
Chatillon,  a  courtier  rather  than  a  soldier,  and 
high  in  the  favour  of  Madame  Louise.  He  was 
one  of  the  staff  officers  attending  the  king,  and 
the  mission  confided  to  him  by  the  anxious  mother 
was  to  prevent  the  king,  as  far  as  he  was  able, 
from  recklessly  exposing  himself  to  danger.  He 
therefore  advised  Francis,  at  least,  to  delay  the 
attack.  "The  atmosphere  was  cloudy,  and  the 
enemy's  full  force  might  not  be  wholly  revealed." 
The  result  was,  that,  from  want  of  promptitude, 
the  advantageous  moment  for  attack  was  lost,  and 
did  not  recur.  Tournay  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  who  committed  many  atrocities. 

The  ambitious  Louise,  unscrupulous  as  she  was, 
could  hardly  have  desired  that  a  battle  should  be 
declined  and  territory  lost  merely  to  offer  another 


222  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

affront  to  the  constable.  Chatillon  was,  perhaps, 
over-zealous  in  his  desire  to  carry  out  her  wishes. 
The  king  had  but  recently  recovered  from  the 
serious  wounds  in  his  head,  which  may  have  been 
a  motive  for  fears  for  his  safety.  It  would  be  a 
satisfaction  to  be  able  to  attribute  some  of  his 
actions  to  injury  to  the  brain. 

The  accident  at  Romorantin  was  not  the  first  of 
the  kind  he  had  met  with.  Some  few  years  be- 
fore, in  a  violent  encounter  in  an  assault-of-arms, 
a  lance  is  said  to  have  deeply  pierced  his  head  and 
broke  in  it.  The  surgeon  in  attendance  drew  it 
out,  Francis  not  uttering  a  groan  (Michelet). 
That  he  should  have  survived  such  an  injury 
seems  extraordinary.  The  story  is  one  of  many 
of  a  similar  nature,  told  by  panegyrists  with  the 
view  of  giving  an  exaggerated  idea  of  his  great 
courage  and  strength,  and  having  probably  some 
slight  foundation  in  truth. 

The  French  arms  were  not  successful  in  Italy ; 
and  again  it  was  the  intriguing  Madame  Louise  — 
the  evil  genius  of  Francis  and  his  kingdom  —  to 
whom  disaster,  defeat,  and  expulsion  were  in  a 
great  measure  due.  There  was  always  some  rival 
of  hers  to  displace,  some  favourite  to  elevate,  no 
matter  by  what  means,  if  her  object  could  be 
attained.  Her  insinuations  had  induced  the  king, 
after  the  battle  of  Marignan,  as  already  mentioned, 
to  recall  Bourbon  from  Milan  ;  but  it  had  sorely 
vexed  her  when  Marshal  Lautrec,  at  the  instance 


THE   MOTHER   AND    THE   MISTRESS       22$ 

of  the  king's  mistress,  was  appointed  to  replace 
him.  The  king,  no  less  unjust  than  his  mother, 
had  gratified  both  her  and  his  wily  mistress,  to 
the  prejudice,  not  only  of  Bourbon,  but  of  the 
claim  to  the  post  of  a  man  much  beloved  by  the 
people  —  the  brave  Milanese  veteran,  Marshal 
Trivulzio. 

Lautrec,  by  his  tyranny,  had  rendered  the 
French  rule  hateful  to  the  Milanese.  The  smallest 
offences  were  punished  as  heavy  crimes.  Im- 
prisonment, chains,  confiscation,  and  banishment 
led  to  numbers  of  the  inhabitants  seeking  a  refuge 
from  the  ferocity  of  the  Milanese  governor  in 
other  Italian  states.  Plots  were  formed  to  dis- 
place Lautrec,  or  to  turn  the  French  out  of  Milan, 
and  Leo  X.  was  known  to  have  encouraged  them. 
Lautrec,  however,  chose  to  accuse  Trivulzio  of 
fomenting  these  troubles. 

The  old  marshal  had  been  a  faithful  ally  of  the 
French,  during  the  reigns  of  Francis  and  his  two 
predecessors.  He  was  now  eighty  years  of  age ; 
yet  to  justify  himself  from  such  accusations  he 
crossed  the  Alps  in  mid  -  winter.  But  Francis 
refused  to  see  him  —  influenced  by  the  countess, 
in  her  brother's  interest.  To  compel  the  king  to 
hear  him,  he  placed  himself  in  his  way  as  he  was 
riding  out  to  Montlhery.  But  the  ungrateful 
prince,  on  perceiving  him,  disdainfully  averted  his 
eyes  and  rode  on. 

This    unworthy    treatment    so    deeply    grieved 


224  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Trivulzio  that  he  took  to  his  bed,  and,  being  too 
ill  to  return  to  Milan,  soon  after  died  at  Chatre. 
The  king  afterwards  expressed  some  regret  for 
the  pain  he  had  caused  this  old  and  faithful  ally ; 
but  his  tardy  repentance  could  not  remove  the 
sting  of  the  great  indignity  he  had  inflicted  on  a 
brave  commander,  who  had  so  long  fought  the 
battles  of  France.  When  the  insult  offered  by 
the  king  to  a  man  so  much  beloved  by  his  country- 
men became  known  in  Milan,  both  grief  and  indig- 
nation were  general,  and  contributed  greatly  to 
the  success  of  the  intrigues  of  the  Pope  and 
emperor. 

Lautrec's  turn  was  soon  to  follow.  One  of  the 
difficulties  of  his  government  was  the  want  of 
money  to  carry  it  on  efficiently.  Milan,  he  con- 
stantly declared,  could  not  be  retained  without  a 
free  expenditure  of  money  to  keep  on  foot  a  large, 
punctually  paid,  and  well  -  provisioned  body  of 
troops  —  the  Swiss  being  so  prone  to  rebel  and 
desert  when  their  pay  fell  into  arrears.  To  get 
money  from  either  Francis  or  his  mother  was 
exceedingly  difficult  ;  she  unwillingly  allowing  it 
to  pass  out  of  her  hands,  he  eagerly  scattering  it 
as  soon  as  it  came  into  his.  Lautrec  was  well 
aware  that  Madame  Louise  was  his  enemy.  But, 
unable  to  pay  his  turbulent  Swiss  troops,  he  re- 
turned to  France  to  make  known  his  imperative 
need  of  funds,  —  his  brother  Lescun  (Marechal  de 
Foix)  acting  as  governor  in  his  absence. 


PROMISES  AND    ASSURANCES  22$ 

Promises  and  assurances  were  always  forthcom- 
ing ;  but,  knowing  how  little  they  were  to  be 
relied  on,  Lautrec  was  loth  to  depart  without  the 
money  required  for  paying  the  Swiss.  The  formal 
guarantee,  the  solemn  promise  of  the  king  and  his 
mother,  and  of  Semblancay,  the  superintendent  of 
the  finances,  that  on  his  return  to  Milan  400,000 
crowns  should  be  ready  for  him  at  the  bankers  of 
Florence  or  of  Languedoc,  induced  him  at  last  to 
leave. 

The  promised  remittance,  however,  did  not 
arrive.  The  Florentine  bankers,  under  pressure 
from  the  Pope,  would  not  advance  the  sum,  but 
lent  to  the  emperor  the  money  reserved  for  the 
king.  Nor  were  the  funds  forthcoming  from 
Languedoc.  To  levy  taxes,  exact  contributions, 
and  order  the  confiscation  of  the  property  (and  in 
some  instances  the  execution)  of  those  who  re- 
belled against  measures  so  despotic,  were  the  only 
means  Lautrec  could  devise  to  quell  the  clamour 
of  the  troops  for  their  pay. 

Many  of  the  victims  of  his  oppression  fled  to 
Reggio  in  the  papal  states,  and  were  pursued 
thither  by  Marechal  de  Foix.  This  infraction  of 
the  territory  of  the  Church  led  to  immediate  hos- 
tilities. The  papal  and  imperial  troops  invaded 
Lombardy  ;  Parma  and  Placentia  and  other  towns 
were  taken  —  the  Milanese  turning  against  their 
despotic  French  governor,  and  receiving  the  Ital- 
ian visitors  with  delight. 


226  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  news  from  the  papal  general,  Prospero 
Colonna,  of  the  realisation  of  Leo  X.'s  long  deeply 
cherished  wish  for  the  recovery  of  Parma  and 
Placentia  —  the  conquest  of  Julian  II.,  afterwards 
taken  by  the  French  —  had  an  extraordinary  effect 
on  his  holiness.  "  He  died  of  laughter,"  writes 
one  historian  ;  and,  although  that  is  not  strictly 
true,  yet  his  exultation  on  learning  that  the 
French  were  driven  out  of  Milan  was  so  excessive, 
that  his  enfeebled,  worn-out  frame  was  unable  to 
bear  the  sudden  shock  of  the  rapturous  rejoicing 
to  which  he  gave  way.  The  reaction  brought  on 
low  fever,  of  which  he  died  a  few  days  after 
(December  ist,  1521). 

The  Pope's  death  caused  a  suspension  of  the 
war.  A  new  pontiff  was  to  be  elected ;  and 
Wolsey's  hopes  ran  high  of  succeeding  the  mag- 
nificent Leo,  and  of  rivalling  him  in  papal  splen- 
dour. Charles  V.  recommended  him  (not  very 
warmly,  it  is  said)  to  the  conclave  ;  but  Wolsey 
seems  not  to  have  received  the  suffrages  of  any 
one  of  the  cardinals.  They  were  divided  in  their 
choice  between  the  cardinals  Giulio  de'  Medici, 
Leo's  nephew,  and  Soderini,  supported  by  France, 
neither  attaining  the  majority  of  voices  that  en- 
sured election.  Cardinal  Giulio  therefore  deter- 
mined, in  order  merely  to  gain  time,  to  transfer 
his  votes  to  the  former  preceptor  of  Charles  V., 
Cardinal  Adrian  d'  Utrecht,  then  Regent  of  Cas- 
tile.    The  rest   of   the  members    of   the    Sacred 


A   SUDDEN  HOLY  INSPIRATION  227 

College  followed  the  impulse  of  Cardinal  de' 
Medici,  doubtless  with  the  idea  at  the  moment  of 
gratifying  the  emperor.  But  as  soon  as  the  deed 
was  done  they  began  to  reflect  on  its  strangeness. 
They  had  chosen  for  Pope  a  man  whom  none  of 
them  knew ;  who  had  never  been  in  Rome  ;  and, 
worse  than  all,  was  a  "barbarian" — a  Fleming. 
As  the  cardinals  afterwards  walked  in  procession 
from  the  conclave,  the  Roman  people,  being 
informed  of  their  choice  of  a  Pope,  loaded  them 
with  insult.  They,  however,  could  only  attribute 
the  course  they  had  taken  to  a  sudden  inspiration 
of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Spain  was  much  pleased  to  get  rid  of  Adrian. 
It  was  deemed  by  the  Spaniards  as  great  an  of- 
fence to  the  nation  that  a  foreigner  and  a  Fleming 
should  be  regent  of  Castile  as  that  the  rapacious 
Guillaume  de  Chievres  should  be  nominated  to  so 
important  a  see  as  that  of  the  archbishopric  of 
Toledo.  The  death  of  Chievres  at  Worms,  while 
the  emperor  was  holding  the  Diet,  and  the  nomi- 
nation of  a  Castilian  to  succeed  him,  went  far  to- 
wards quelling  the  Castilian  insurrection. 

Adrian  received  the  news  of  his  elevation  to  the 
papacy  with  much  surprise,  and  many  misgivings 
of  his  fitness  for  so  high  an  office ;  and  some 
months  elapsed  before  he  left  Spain  to  take  pos- 
session of  it.  Meanwhile  the  war  went  on  ;  until, 
after  many  defeats,  partial  successes,  troubles  with 
the  soldiery,  and  errors  in  the  conduct  of  the  hos- 


228  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

tilities  on  the  part  of  the  brothers  De  Foix,  the 
French  were  driven  out  of  Lombardy.  Genoa, 
too,  became  lost  to  France  ;  and  on  the  30th  of 
May,  1522,  was  given  up  to  pillage  and  all  the 
horrors  of  war. 

Lautrec  returned  to  France  ;  but  the  king  re- 
fused to  see  him,  and  was  even  unmoved  by  the 
entreaties  of  the  countess.  Yet,  strangely  enough, 
the  constable  prevailed  on  Francis  to  allow  Lautrec 
to  offer  explanations  of  his  conduct.  Bourbon  and 
Lautrec  were  supposed  to  be  acting  in  concert  to 
deprive  Louise  of  her  great  influence  over  the 
king,  by  exposing  her  artifices  and  appropriation 
of  the  public  moneys.  The  king  received  the 
marshal  very  frigidly  ;  then,  giving  way  to  one  of 
those  violent  ebullitions  of  anger  he  was  subject 
to,  accused  him  of  losing  his  "heritage  of  Milan." 

"It  is  your  majesty  who  has  lost  it,  not  I,"  an- 
swered Lautrec,  with  difficulty  restraining  his 
anger  —  being  as  haughty  and  violent  in  temper 
as  the  king  himself.  "The  troops  had  served 
eighteen  months,"  he  continued,  "  without  receiv- 
ing a  fraction  of  their  pay  ;  and  the  Swiss,  threat- 
ening desertion,  compelled  me  to  give  battle  at  a 
disadvantage." 

"  What  became,  then,  of  the  400,000  crowns 
which,  at  your  request,   I  sent   you   last   year  ? " 

"  The  letters  announcing  their  despatch  were 
received,  but  the  money  never  arrived." 

How  was  this  to  be  explained  ?     The   superin- 


THE   PROCEEDS   OF  HER  SAVINGS         229 

tendent  of  the  finances  was  sent  for.  Perhaps 
there  had  been  remissness  on  his  part.  But  Sem- 
blangay,  while  acknowledging  that  the  king  had 
ordered  the  400,000  crowns  to  be  forwarded  with- 
out delay,  and  that  they  had  been  forthwith  pre- 
pared for  despatch,  informed  his  majesty  that 
Madame  d'Angouleme  had  taken  the  money,  as 
he  would  immediately  prove  to  him. 

The  king,  enraged,  rushed  to  his  mother's 
apartment,  and  demanded  an  explanation  of  an 
act  that  had  caused  his  losses  in  Italy.  Madame 
Louise  denied  M.  Semblancay's  statement.  "  The 
money  for  which  he  had  produced  her  receipt  was," 
she  said,  "  the  proceeds  of  her  savings,  which  for 
some  time  had  been  in  his  keeping  ;  but  the  king's 
money  she  had  never  touched."  Francis  did  not 
place  much  faith  in  this  attempted  refutation  of 
his  minister's  account  of  the  matter,  and  would 
not  dismiss  him.  For  a  while  some  estrangement 
occurred  between  mother  and  son.  Stormy  family 
scenes  took  place,  partly  fomented  by  his  mistress 
to  exculpate  her  brother,  the  office  of  peacemaker 
devolving  on  Marguerite,  the  queen's  sister.  But 
Madame  Louise  soon  regained  her  sway. 

It  seems  extraordinary  that  Semblancay  should 
not  have  mentioned  the  circumstance  to  the  king  at 
the  time  it  occurred,  as  his  word  was  also  pledged 
to  Lautrec  for  the  due  despatch  of  the  money, 
and  was  probably  more  relied  on  than  either  the 
king's  or  his  mother's.      Some  unexplained  mystery 


23O  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

enveloped  this  affair,  and  Madame  Louise  was  all- 
powerful  ;  but  whether  her  implication  in  it  was 
due  to  avarice  or  perfidy,  Semblancay,  "for 
speaking  the  truth,"  became  a  victim  to  her  ven- 
geance —  slowly  but  effectually  accomplished. 

His  voluntary  retirement,  in  favour  of  his  son, 
from  the  office  he  had  held  ever  since  the  acces- 
sion of  the  economical  and  methodical  Louis  XII., 
did  not  satisfy  that  most  corrupt  of  women,  the 
mother  of  Francis  I.  Accusations  from  time  to 
time  were  brought  against  him,  either  by  her  or 
at  her  instigation ;  sometimes  eagerly  pursued, 
then  dropped  for  awhile,  and  again  resumed,  as 
political  affairs,  her  persecution  of  Bourbon,  and 
the  training  of  rivals  to  supplant  the  countess, 
occupied  more  or  less  of  her  attention. 

Five  years  after  her  appropriation  of  the  400,000 
crowns  destined  for  the  army  of  Italy,  she  and  her 
worthy  chancellor,  Duprat,  succeeded  in  obtaining 
the  condemnation  of  the  aged  minister.  He  died 
on  the  public  scaffold  (1527)  as  related  in  that 
strange  record  of  the  occurrences  in  Paris  during 
the  reign  of  the  libertine  "  chevalier  king"  and 
his  worthless  mother  —  the  "  Journal  cC nn  Bourgeois 
de  Paris." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

A  New  Complication.  —  A  Shock  for  the  Cardinals.  —  Full  of 
Good  Intentions.  —  The  Inquisition.  —  The  Imperial  Guest. 

—  The  Italian  Emigrants.  —  The  Rebuilding  of  Chambord. 

—  The  Ambassador's  Report.  —  Duprat  at  His  Wits'  End.  — ■ 
Colonel  of  the  Scotch  Guards. — The  Insignia  of  Royal 
Justice. —  Such  Was  His  Good  Pleasure. —  Louise  and  Her 
Chancellor. —  A  Contribution  to  the  Treasury.  — Avenging  a 
Private  Pique. — A  Strange  Infatuation.  —  Madame  Renee's 
Reply.  —  Advice  of  Anne  de  Beaujeu.  —  Was  He  Legiti- 
mate?—  Mother  and  Son.  —  Charles  and  Suzanne  de  Bour- 
bon. —  Too  Absurd  to  Believe. 


"HILST  Francis  was  lamentins;  the  loss 


of  his  Italian  possessions  —  calamity 
the  more  keenly  felt  from  his  jeal- 
ousy of  the  influence  recently  acquired  by  the 
emperor  in  Italy,  in  the  elevation  of  his  former 
preceptor  to  the  papal  throne — a  new  complica- 
tion of  affairs  arose. 

On  the  29th  of  May  a  herald  arrived  at  the 
Court  of  France,  the  bearer  of  a  formal  declara- 
tion of  war  from  Henry  VIII.  Charles  V.  was 
then  at  the  English  Court,  visiting  his  relatives 
and  bride-elect  (then  nearly  six  years  old),  on  his 
way  to  Spain  to  relieve  Pope  Adrian  of  his  duties 
as  regent.  The  cardinals  and  the  Roman  people 
231 


232  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

had  become  very  anxious  for  the  appearance  of 
this  pontiff  elected  under  Divine  inspiration. 

As  for  the  brilliant,  the  intellectual,  the  dissi- 
pated, and  luxury -loving  society  of  the  Vatican, 
Adrian  VI.*  was  a  little,  wizened,  infirm,  and  hum- 
ble-looking old  man ;  rigidly  pious,  severely  moral, 
an  enemy  to  "pagan  pomp  and  show;"  knowing 
nothing  of  the  arts  of  Italy,  caring  nothing  for  the 
society  of  painters,  sculptors,  poets,  and  learned 
philologists  ;  keeping  no  sumptuous  table  ;  having 
in  his  pay  no  company  of  comedians,  dancers,  mu- 
sicians, but  wholly  absorbed  by  the  duties  of  his 
office  —  the  most  pressing  of  which  he  thought 
was  to  endeavour  to  reform  both  the  Church 
and  Court  of  Rome.  An  Herculean  task  indeed, 
which  he  had  the  will  to  accomplish,  but,  unhap- 
pily, had  not  the  genius  to  discover  the  way. 

But  what  a  shock  for  the  cardinals  and  others, 
ecclesiastics  or  laymen,  who  had  formed  part  of 
the  court  of  Adrian's  three  predecessors  ;  who  had 
witnessed  the  magnificence  and  licentious  revelry 
of  the  infamous  Alexander  VI.;  the  pompous  mili- 
tary surroundings  of  the  martial  Julian  II.;  the 
elegance,  the  luxury,  the  courtly  refinement  and 
courtesy,  masking  the  libertinism  of  the  munificent 
patron  of  art  and  learning  —  the  profligate  Leo  X. 

Yet  Adrian  was  full  of  good  intentions ;  desired 
to  be  impartial,  and  to  promote  peace  in  Europe. 
Though  naturally  devoted  to  the  emperor,  and  in- 

*  Contrary  to  papal  custom  he  retained  his  own  name. 


THE   INQUISITION  233 

clining  to  his  views,  he  on  leaving  Spain  wrote  to 
Francis,  assuring  him  of  his  paternal  sentiments. 
His  first  attempts  at  reforming  the  abuses  of  the 
Church  were  received  in  Italy  with  astonishment, 
and  general  murmurs  of  disapprobation.  For  he 
acknowledged  and  condemned  what,  it  was  con- 
tended, he  ought  to  have  concealed,  the  excesses 
of  the  Papal  Court  ;  admitted  that  the  Roman 
pontiff  was  not  infallible  in  matters  of  faith,  and 
would  have  been  willing  to  abolish  the  Indul- 
gences, replacing  them  by  the  severe  penances 
of  the  Primitive  Church. 

By  these  concessions  made  to  Germany,  he 
hoped  to  lure  back  the  stray  sheep  from  the  false 
shepherds  of  heresy  to  the  fold  of  the  faithful. 
But,  while  in  some  sense  a  reformer,  he  was  never- 
theless a  persecutor ;  being  anxious  that  the  de- 
cree against  Luther  —  who  had  left  Wartbourg 
and  resumed  his  professorial  chair  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Wittemberg  —  should  be  fully  carried  out. 
The  Diet  replied  to  the  Pope's  pastoral  letter  by 
a  severe  remonstrance,  another  "  Hundred  Griev- 
ances," and  the  adoption  by  the  church  at  Wit- 
temberg, and  other  now  Protestant  states,  of  a 
new  form  of  religious  service  organised  by  Luther. 

The  first  martyrs  to  Protestantism  were  burnt 
in  the  emperor's  dominions  during  Adrian's  short 
pontificate.  They  were  three  Augustine  monks 
of  Antwerp,  who  had  adopted  Luther's  opinions. 
The  Inquisition,  further  to  frighten  probable  back- 


234  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

sliders,  ordered  their  convent  to  be  burnt  to  the 
ground. 

Adrian  was  not  more  fortunate  in  his  efforts  to 
persuade  the  sovereigns  of  Europe  to  desist  from 
making  war  on  their  own  account,  and  to  unite 
their  arms  against  the  Turks,  than  in  his  efforts 
to  reform  the  abuses  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
He  proposed,  in  default  of  a  treaty  of  peace, 
which  he  would  have  preferred,  that  the  con- 
tending parties  should  consent  to  a  three  years' 
truce.  Forgetting  their  private  disputes,  that 
they  should  make  common  cause  to  expel  Soly- 
man  II.  and  his  infidel  hordes  from  Belgrade, 
which  they  had  besieged  and  taken ;  also  to 
compel  the  sultan  to  evacuate  the  Island  of 
Rhodes,  and  reinstate  the  Knights  of  Saint  John 
of  Jerusalem. 

This  scheme  did  not  at  all  meet  the  views  of 
the  parties  addressed.  Their  common  and  chronic 
difficulty,  want  of  money,  would  have  made  any 
feasible  proposal  for  a  truce  welcome ;  but  only 
in  order  to  gain  time  to  prepare  more  efficiently 
for  breaking  it.  The  ambassadors  of  the  several 
powers,  assembled  to  learn  the  pontiff's  view  of 
the  matter,  at  once  separated  —  knowing  that  the 
claims  and  counter-claims  and  demands  for  resti- 
tution that  would  be  put  forward  on  all  sides 
rendered  negotiation  impossible. 

Skirmishing  had  been  resumed  by  the  French, 
on    the    frontiers   of  Flanders,    where  the   king's 


THE   IMPERIAL    GUEST  235 

eagerness  to  play  the  part  of  commander-in-chief, 
when  the  tactics  of  his  generals  were  on  the  point 
of  securing  some  advantages,  had  again  ended  in 
frustrated  plans  and  consequent  defeat.  Henry 
VIII.,  at  the  same  time,  was  sending  vessels  to 
ravage  the  coasts  of  Brittany  and  Normandy. 
This  was  a  compliment  to  his  imperial  guest,  that 
he  might  witness,  on  his  departure,  the  beginning 
of  hostilities,  the  vessels  afterwards  joining  the 
emperor's  fleet,  and  convoying  him  into  Spanish 
waters. 

The  plague,  which,  in  the  course  of  this  year 
had  raged  in  so  many  of  the  continental  towns,  at 
length  appeared  with  extraordinary  virulence  in 
Paris  —  the  chief  plague-spot  of  Europe  —  the 
pestiferous  open  sewer  surrounding  the  royal 
palace  becoming  every  year  more  intolerable  and 
more  fatal  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  city.  The 
court  had  fled  to  Blois ;  Francis  had  taken  a  fancy 
to  the  neighbouring  Chateau  de  Chambord,  which 
was  about  to  undergo  alteration  and  enlargement 
on  a  very  extensive  scale. 

The  misery  following  the  unceasing  wars  of 
the  French  in  Italy,  the  cruelty  and  oppression  of 
the  brothers  De  Foix  in  their  government  of  Milan, 
and,  recently,  the  death  of  Leo  X.,  the  great 
patron  of  art,  had  caused  an  influx  of  emigrants 
on  this  side  of  the  Alps,  the  flower,  often,  of  the 
Italian  populations.  Among  them  were  many  able 
artists,   sculptors,   and  architects  especially,    who 


236  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

were  induced  to  seek  patronage  and  employment 
in  the  country  of  the  devastators  of  their  own  fair 
land,  if  not  exactly  their  conquerors  (P.  Lacroix). 
Francis  is  said  to  have  had  at  least  so  much  sense 
of  the  wrong  he  and  his  predecessors  had  done  to 
Italy,  as  to  seek  to  palliate  it  by  favours  to  the 
Italians  —  only,  however,  those  who  were  men  of 
genius  or  learning  —  who  sought  refuge  in  France 
from  the  misfortune  and  ruin  he  had  brought  on 
their  country. 

It  was  then  that  the  rage  for  building  began. 
Many  of  the  old  feudal  fortresses  changed  their 
military  character,  and,  if  not  entirely  rebuilt, 
were  sufficiently  transformed  to  receive  and  enter- 
tain within  their  walls,  or  in  their  newly  laid-out 
grounds,  large  parties  of  pleasure.  Constructed 
originally  to  keep  enemies  at  bay  and  to  stand  a 
siege,  they  were  now  often  the  scene  of  royal 
revels  and  festivity. 

The  enlarging  or  rebuilding  of  the  Chateau  de 
Chambord  had  but  recently  been  determined  on, 
and  for  years  after  the  work  went  on  but  slowly. 
Many  interruptions  occurred,  either  war,  or  want 
of  money  to  pay  the  architects  and  sculptors. 
The  men  they  employed  were  like  the  Swiss 
soldiers,  often  rebellious  and  inclined  to  desert, 
unless  the  arrears  of  their  pay  were  forthcoming. 
Sometimes  want  of  material  brought  the  work  to 
a  standstill,  funds  being  wanting  to  supply  it,  or  to 
bring  it  from  the  quarries. 


THE   AMBASSADOR'S  REPORT  237 

Such  was  the  case  at  the  time  in  question,  when 
money  was  wanted,  as  well  for  war  as  building, 
Francis  having  determined  on  not  losing  "  his 
heritage"  without  a  struggle  to  recover  it,  or 
sparing  blood  or  treasure  to  achieve  its  successful 
issue,  though  Europe  was  in  arms  against  him. 
Even  the  Pope  joined  the  coalition,  persuaded  that 
Francis  alone  had  been  the  cause  of  the  unfavour- 
able result  of  his  attempted  mediation.  Venice, 
the  old  and  faithful  and  now  only  ally  of  France, 
yet  hesitated  to  sign  the  pact  for  the  defence  of 
Italy  against  French  invasion.  The  Senate  waited 
for  information  from  their  ambassador  respecting 
the  extent  of  the  preparations  the  king,  menaced 
on  all  sides,  was  then  making  for  war. 

Shortly  after,  they  were  informed  that  the  king 
was  leading  the  life  of  a  voluptuary,  that  he  was 
wholly  devoted  to  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  and 
the  society  of  courtesans,  that  the  revenues  of  the 
state  and  the  products  of  the  heavy  taxes  levied 
on  the  people  for  the  expenses  of  the  war  were 
wasted  on  his  favourites,  his  mistresses,  and  in 
every  kind  of  folly,  and  that,  as  to  preparation 
for  war,  he  was  himself  not  occupied  with  it,  and 
spoke  of  war  only  at  table.  Further,  they  were 
told  that  it  was  whispered  about  that  a  rich  and 
powerful  prince  of  the  blood  —  Due  Charles  de 
Bourbon  —  was  suspected  of  being  in  secret  cor- 
respondence with  the  emperor. 

Venice  hesitated  no  longer,  but,  on  the  5th  of 


238  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

August,  joined  the  league  with  the  Pope,  the 
emperor,  the  King  of  England,  the  Archduke 
Ferdinand  of  Austria,  and  the  whole  of  the  Italian 
states.*  Francis  had  no  friends  now  left  but 
those  doubtful  ones,  the  Swiss,  and,  possibly,  the 
Scotch,  to  whom  he  dispatched  the  Duke  of 
Albany  to  invite  them  to  invade  England  on  the 
north,  to  divert  Henry's  attention  from  France,  f 

The  king  had  at  last  torn  himself  from  his 
libertine  pleasures,  and  resolved  on  immediately 
assembling  an  army,  of  which  he  proposed  to  take 
the  command  in  person,  believing  that  Fortune 
would  be  more  propitious  to  his  arms  than  she 
had  latterly  been  to  those  of  his  generals*  Great 
efforts  were  making  to  raise  funds.  Duprat  was 
at  his  wits'  end  for  new  devices.  The  clergy  had 
been  asked  for  the  church -plate  and  the  half  of 
their  revenues.  They  were  to  be  rewarded  by  the 
nomination  of  twelve  begging  friars  to  preach  in 
the  provinces  against  the  "  erroneous  doctrines  of 
Luther."  The  massive  silver  railing  surrounding 
the  tomb  of  Saint  Martin  de  Tours  had  already 

*  Adrian  VI.  died  on  the  14th  of  the  following  month,  as 
weary  of  Rome  and  the  cardinals  as  they  were  weary  of  him. 
The  triple  crown  had  oppressed  him  greatly.  His  poignant 
grief  that  he  was  unable  to  accomplish  the  good  he  desired,  to- 
gether with  the  feeling  that  he  inspired  only  aversion,  probably 
hastened  his  death.  On  the  morning  following  it,  the  door  of 
his  physician's  house  was  garlanded  with  flowers,  with  the  in 
scription,  "  The  Senate  and  the  People  of  Rome  to  the 
Liberator  of  the  Country." 

t  Henri  Martin,  "  Histoire  dc  France.'1'' 


COLONEL    OF   THE   SCOTCLL  GUARDS       239 

been  appropriated.  It  was  the  offering  of  that 
pious  king,  Louis  XL,  as  a  bribe  to  the  saint  in 
order  to  secure  his  good  offices  for  the  success  of 
some  scheme  whose  happy  issue  he  must  have  had 
greatly  at  heart,  as  he  was  not  accustomed  to  be 
so  liberal.  Even  for  the  holy  virgin's  aid  he  merely 
conferred  on  her  the  title  of  Comtesse  de  Boulogne 
and  the  honorary  military  rank  of  colonel  of  the 
Scotch  guards,  besides  carrying  in  his  hat  a  minia- 
ture statuette  of  her  in  lead. 

The  royal  domains,  by  some  new  arrangement, 
were  sold  a  second  time,  and  numberless  new 
offices  created  to  be  disposed  of  to  the  highest 
bidder.  The  magistracy  was  also  increased  in 
number,  the  provincial  tribunals  complaining  in 
vain  of  the  inconvenience  and  encumbrance  of 
so  many  judges.  All  sorts  of  new  taxes  were  in- 
vented, the  old  ones  increased,  and  the  national 
debt  (rentes  perpetuelles)  was  founded  by  Duprat ; 
the  only  device  of  his  that  eventually  was  favour- 
ably received  by  the  citizens  of  Paris  (H.  Martin). 

The  country  appears  to  have  been  in  a  fearful 
state  of  turbulence  and  anarchy.  The  soldiery 
remaining  unpaid,  notwithstanding  the  vast  sums 
raised,  roamed  about  in  bands,  ravaging  the  coun- 
try, pillaging  the  inhabitants,  and  levying  contri- 
butions on  the  towns.  The  king  and  his  mother, 
regarded  as  the  cause  of  the  alarm  and  distress 
that  so  generally  prevailed,  were  in  the  highest 
degree  unpopular.    Expressions  of  hatred  and  con- 


24O  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

tempt  were  on  every  lip.  Tumultuous  assemblages, 
violent  brawls,  and  assassinations  were  of  nightly 
occurrence  in  Paris. 

The  plague  had  abated,  and  the  king  was  again 
at  the  Palais  des  Tournelles.  The  agitated  state 
of  the  capital  induced  the  bailiff  or  superintendent 
of  the  palace  to  take  the  precaution,  on  the  king's 
arrival,  of  putting  up  scaffolds  or  gibbets  at  the 
entrances  of  the  royal  dwelling  —  a  singular  cus- 
tom, intended,  it  appears,  to  intimidate  refractory 
citizens.  But  the  people  responded  to  the  menace 
by  an  act  of  bravado,  and  during  the  night  these 
"sinister  insignia  of  royal  justice"  were  thrown 
down  by  a  body  of  armed  men.* 

The  police  and  the  magistracy  were  not  over- 
zealous  in  repressing  this  disorder  in  the  capital. 
They,  no  less  than  the  people,  were  dissatisfied 
with  the  rapacity  of  the  king  and  his  chancellor, 
who  had  recently  instituted  a  second  judicial  cham- 
ber for  Paris.  Not  that  the  requirements  of  jus- 
tice called  for  such  a  measure.  It  was  simply  one 
of  the  devices  to  obtain  money  for  the  insatiable 
needs  of  the  sovereign,  the  eighteen  councillors 
and  two  presidents  of  whom  the  chamber  was 
composed  paying  each  for  his  office  —  which,  to 
render  it  more  attractive,  was  made  hereditary  — 
a  sum  of  not  less  than  2,000  gold  crowns. 

Francis  was  desperately  annoyed  at  the  indo- 
cility  of  his  subjects  under  his  pillaging  and  exac- 

*  "  Journal  d'un  Bourgeois  Jc  Paris,  1523." 


SUCH    WAS  HIS   GOOD   PLEASURE  24 1 

tions.  "  Never  was  monarch  so  detested,"  wrote 
the  English  agent  to  Wolsey.  Francis,  however, 
was  as  much  alarmed  as  irritated  at  the  spirit  of 
resistance  he  had  provoked  in  Paris.  Some  of  the 
most  prominent  offenders  were  imprisoned.  On 
others,  heavy  fines  were  imposed  (welcome  addi- 
tions to  the  king's  treasury).  A  "bed  of  justice" 
was  also  held,  when,  after  an  angry  reproof,  Fran- 
cis declared  that  he  would  not  allow  the  anarchy 
of  the  Paris  of  Charles  VI.  and  Charles  VII.  to 
be  reintroduced  into  the  capital  during  his  reign. 
It  must  cease  at  once,  or  severe  measures  to 
compel  it  would  be  resorted  to.  Such  was  his 
good  pleasure. 

To  put  down  the  brigand  bands  who,  under 
various  appellations  —  "Milk  diablcs"  "Mauvais 
gargons,"  " Adventuriers,"  etc. — were  committing 
serious  depredations  in  the  provinces,  an  armed 
force  was  despatched,  under  the  ferocious  De  Foix 
and  other  pitiless  commanders,  who  soon  captured 
most  of  the  rioters,  and  slaughtered  them,  also,  as 
they  fell  into  their  hands. 

But  other  troubles  were  preparing  for  France. 
From  the  time  when  Marshal  Lautrec  and  Charles 
de  Bourbon  had  combined  to  expose  the  treachery 
and  perfidy  of  Louise  of  Savoy,  with  the  view  of 
shaking  her  credit  with  the  king,  and  thus  dimin- 
ishing her  influence  in  affairs  of  state,  that  unprin- 
cipled woman  had  resolved  on  a  great  revenge. 
The  minister  Semblanc.ay  she  slowly  but   surely 


242  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

pursued  to  the  bitter  end.  Lautrec  she  hoped  to 
reach  through  the  downfall  of  his  sister  ;  but  to 
achieve  Bourbon's  ruin  she  sought  the  aid  of  her 
worthy  chancellor,  who  cheered  her  with  the  pros- 
pect of  speedily  and  thoroughly  accomplishing  it. 

The  estrangement  between  Louise  and  her  son 
had  been  but  of  short  duration.  Habit,  and  idle- 
ness, and  the  indifference  natural  to  him,  together 
with  the  belief  in  her  great  administrative  ability, 
soon  brought  him  again  under  the  sway  of  her 
pernicious  influence,  and  led  to  his  participation 
in  her  unworthy  schemes  for  vengeance  on  the 
man  who  had  rejected  her  love  and  her  proffered 
hand. 

While  Paris  was  in  the  state  of  tumult  and  re- 
volt mentioned  above,  the  Parliament  had  before 
them  a  question  for  decision  respecting  a  gift 
made  by  the  king  to  his  mother,  of  the  estates  he 
had  seized,  of  Anne  de  Beaujeu,  Dowager  Duchesse 
de  Bourbon,  daughter  of  Louis  XI.  Bourbon 
opposed  the  legal  confirmation  of  this  gift  by  the 
Parliament,  and  the  judges  had  entertained  his 
opposition.  They  also  continually  delayed  their 
decision,  and  showed  no  inclination  to  assist  the 
king  in  despoiling  his  cousin  in  his  mother's 
favour. 

The  death  of  the  Duchesse  Anne  occurred  in 
November,  1522,  and  these  estates,  with  other 
possessions  and  much  wealth  besides,  she  left  by 
will  to  her  son-in-law,  Due  Charles  de  Bourbon,  at 


A    CONTRIBUTION   TO    THE    TREASURY    243 

the  same  time  confirming  her  daughter's  testa- 
ment of  the  preceding  year,  by  which  she  had 
made  a  donation  to  her  husband  of  her  portion  of 
their  joint  inheritance. 

The  first  affront  to  the  constable- — the  depriv- 
ing him  of  the  command  of  the  vanguard  —  was 
followed  up,  after  Lautrec's  affair,  by  that  of 
withholding  payment  of  the  pensions  or  salaries 
attached  to  the  offices  he  held  in  the  state.  His 
revenues  were  so  large  that  this  deprivation  was  a 
matter  of  no  moment  to  him.  He  deigned  to  take 
no  further  notice  of  it  than  to  treat  the  sum  with- 
held as  a  contribution  to  the  public  treasury. 

Finding  that  Bourbon  was  not  ambitious  of 
wedding  the  king's  mother,  Duprat  was  of  opinion 
that  she  might  lay  claim  to  his  estates,  her  mother 
having  been  of  the  Bourbon  family,  and  either  by 
a  never-ending  proccs,  that  should  deprive  him  of 
their  revenues,  or,  assisted  by  himself,  and  —  if 
possible  to  find  him — some  other  equally  right- 
eous judge,  obtain  a  decree  in  her  favour,  and 
thus  bring  utter  ruin  on  this  haughty  prince  of 
the  blood,  this  last  of  the  great  vassals  of  the 
crown,  who  within  his  vast  dominions  presumptu- 
ously lived  in  royal  state  surpassing  that  of  his 
sovereign. 

Duprat  had  for  some  time  been  diligently  ex- 
amining the  titles  and  deeds  by  which  the  royal 
lands  were  held,  the  fiefs  feminine  and  the  fiefs 
masculine,  comprising  the  estates  of  Charles  de 


244  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Bourbon.  He  believed  that  an  oversight  he  had 
discovered,  in  the  contract  conveying  Suzanne  de 
Beaujeu's  portion  of  the  Bourbon  domain  to  her 
husband,  might  be  made  available  for  giving  col- 
our to  the  claim  preferred  by  the  Duchesse  d'  An- 
gouleme.  At  the  same  time  he  was  fully  aware 
that  there  were  circumstances  connected  with  the 
signing  of  that  marriage  contract  which  rendered 
the  oversight  alluded  to  null. 

Duprat,  it  appears,  had  a  private  pique  of  his 
own  to  avenge.  Bourbon  had  declined  to  cede  to 
him  one  of  his  estates  in  Auvergne,  to  which  he 
had  taken  a  fancy,  and  which  he  probably  now 
hoped  to  obtain  from  the  king  or  his  mother  as  a 
reward  for  his  services  when  they  entered  into 
possession  of  the  Bourbon  inheritance.  Forth- 
with he  drew  up  a  memorial  informing  the  duke 
of  the  informality  in  his  marriage  contract,  and  of 
the  claim  of  the  Duchesse  Louise  d'  Angouleme, 
the  daughter  of  a  sister  of  Pierre  de  Beaujeu,  Due 
de  Bourbon,  his  wife's  father,  therefore  her  cousin 
and  her  heiress. 

It  is  asserted  that  Louise  of  Savoy  still  clung, 
with  most  strange  infatuation,  to  the  hope  as  well 
as  desire  of  yet  bringing  the  recalcitrant  prince  to 
her  feet.  His  disinclination  to  a  marriage  with 
her  would  be  overcome,  she  flattered  herself,  by 
the  step  she  had  taken.  His  love  of  grandeur 
and  princely  surroundings  was  supposed  to  be  so 
deeply  rooted  a  passion  that,  as  he  had  once  mar- 


A    STRANGE   INFATUATION  245 

ried  for  an  increase  of  wealth,  he  would  now  marry 
to  retain  it. 

Friends  in  the  Parliament,  through  the  agency 
of  Duprat,  were  to  be  urged  to  impress  on  him 
that  his  cause  was  a  hopeless  one,  and  that  if 
brought  before  them  might  already  be  considered 
lost.  From  the  wealthiest  he  would  then  become 
almost  the  poorest  prince  in  Christendom.  There 
was,  however,  a  way  of  avoiding  this  disaster,  and 
of  arriving  at  a  happy  settlement  of  all  differences 
and  rival  claims  —  a  marriage  with  the  Duchesse 
d'Angouleme,  more  than  once  before  indirectly 
suggested.  With  her  sanction  the  offer  of  her 
hand  was  now  formally  made  to  him.  He  dis- 
dainfully rejected  it.  "  He  could  never  consent," 
he  said,  "to  make  an  immodest  woman  his  wife." 
Her  pretensions  to  be  his  late  wife's  heiress  he 
treated  with  ridicule. 

Bourbon  seems  to  have  been  on  terms  of  friendly 
intimacy  with  the  young  queen  —  a  circumstance 
much  in  his  favour  —  paying  court  where  more 
neglect  than  respect  was  generally  shown.  Also 
with  Marguerite,  though  not  her  lover,  as  some 
pretend  ;  thus  condemning  her,  while  endeavour- 
ing to  prove  that  she  was  one  of  the  most  virtu- 
ous—  as  probably  she  was  —  of  those  very  rare 
exceptions  to  the  general  depravity  of  the  court. 

The  queen  favoured  the  idea  of  a  marriage  with 
Bourbon  for  her  sister,  Madame  Renee,  who  was 
now  thirteen,  the  marriage  to  take  place  two  years 


246  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

later.  The  wishes  of  Queen  Claude  in  that  or  any 
other  matter  had  no  influence  whatever  with  Fran- 
cis. But  Bourbon,  acting  upon  it  immediately  after 
he  had  declined  the  proffered  hand  of  Louise,  made 
a  formal  demand  for  Renee.  The  king  refused, 
though  assuring  him,  very  significantly,  that  the 
refusal  came  from  the  young  lady  herself,  who 
had  said—  as  of  course  was  suggested  to  her,  if 
said  at  all  —  that  she  "  could  not  marry  a  prince 
who  was  on  the  point  of  losing  his  domains." 

When  the  claim  to  his  estates  was  first  put 
forward  Anne  de  Beaujeu  still  lived,  and,  during 
the  few  months  preceding  her  death,  energeti- 
cally employed  such  small  authority  as  in  the 
present  reign  she  still  retained,  in  defence  of  her 
son-in-law's  rights ;  counselling  him  on  her  death- 
bed to  oppose  the  pretensions  of  the  infamous 
Louise  and  her  son,  and  if  driven  to  extremities 
to  ally  himself  with  the  emperor. 

As  soon  as  her  death  occurred,  her  estates  were 
seized  in  the  king's  name  and  transferred  to  his 
mother  ;  the  validity  of  that  gift,  as  well  as  of 
her  claim  to  other  of  the  Bourbon  possessions, 
being  now  under  consideration  by  the  Parliament. 
The  king,  though  countenancing  his  mother's 
iniquity,  affected  to  make  himself  no  party  to 
these  latter  proceedings.  It  was  his  mother's 
private  proch ;  but  Bourbon  could  of  course  no 
longer  doubt  that  both  were  determined  to  ruin 
him.      He  dissembled  his  resentment,  repaired  to 


WAS  HE  LEGITIMATE?  247 

his  Chateau  of  Moulins,  and  remained  there  for 
a  few  months  in  great  retirement. 

During  this  time  the  judges  deputed  to  inquire 
into  the  proofs  making  for  or  against  the  claim  of 
Louise  arrived  at  Moulins.  The  cordial  and 
hospitable  reception  they  met  with,  and  the  readi- 
ness shown  to  facilitate  their  object,  impressed 
them  so  favourably  that  they  were  less  disposed 
than  before  to  be  urged  by  their  unprincipled 
president,  Duprat,  into  doing  an  act  of  evident 
injustice.  On  their  return  they  remonstrated 
with  the  chancellor,  who,  amazed  at  their  pre- 
sumption, committed  them  to  prison. 

Bourbon  is  said  to  have  been  dignified  rather 
than  austere.  He  possessed  great  power  in  at- 
taching to  him  those  who  came  within  the  sphere 
of  his  influence.  His  dependents  were  devoted 
to  him,  and  his  troops,  when  led  by  him,  full  of 
enthusiasm.  Yet  he  maintained  strict  discipline, 
having  the  very  rare  faculty  of  making  himself 
beloved  and  at  the  same  time  feared. 

Yet  Francis,  as  a  further  affront  — most  disas- 
trously, as  it  proved,  for  himself — preferred  to 
give  the  command  of  the  40,000  men  he  sent 
to  recover  Milan  to  the  favourite  companion  of 
his  libertine  revels,  the  incompetent  Admiral 
Bonnivet. 

M.  Michelet  in  his  "History  of  France,"  after 
speaking  of  Francis  I.  as  a  "  splendid  automaton," 
"a  stage  hero,"  etc.,  asks,  "  Was  he  legitimate?" 


248  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

and  replies  to  this  question,  "Who  can  tell?" 
But  it  appears  that  Charles  de  Bourbon  once 
hinted  that  he  was  not.  Exasperated  by  the  per- 
sistent pursuit  of  a  woman  he  held  in  aversion,  he 
referred  to  what  were  generally  termed  her 
"  gallantries,"  naming,  as  a  former  chief  favourite, 
"the  handsome  miller  of  Cognac,"  of  whom 
Francis  I.  was  the  very  counterpart.  "  This 
remarkable  resemblance  was  pointed  out  by 
Bourbon  "  (Crowe). 

So  extreme,  indeed,  was  the  immorality  of  the 
Court  of  France  of  that  clay,  of  which  the  king 
and  his  mother  were  such  startlingly  gross  exam- 
ples, that  no  acts  of  profligacy  with  which  they 
may  be  charged  can  be  wholly  attributed  to  the 
tongue  of  slander,  and  but  seldom  even  partly 
so.  There,  however,  seems  to  be  no  proof  that  a 
liaison,  as  asserted  by  some  French  writers,  had 
existed  between  Charles  de  Bourbon  as  a  mere 
youth  and  the  then  Comtesse  d'  Angouleme. 

They  are  even  said  to  have  exchanged  rings 
as  an  eventual  promise  of  marriage.  But  dis- 
parity of  age,  and  the  fact  of  his  having  been 
left  an  orphan  in  early  boyhood,  from  which  time 
he  was  brought  up  —  and  trained  in  a  manner 
wholly  opposed  to  that  in  which  Francis  d'  An- 
gouleme was  reared  and  ruined  by  his  mother  — 
as  the  future  son-in-law  of  the  Due  and  Duchesse 
de  Bourbon  —  whose  dislike  to  the  intriguing 
widow  of  Cognac  equalled  that  of  Anne  of   Brit- 


CHARLES  AND  SUZANNE  DE  BOURBON  249 

tany  —  alike  disprove  it.  When  the  old  duke 
died,  the  young  Comte  de  Montpensier  inherited 
his  title  and  part  of  his  estates.  The  rest  had 
been  settled  on  Suzanne.  The  acquiescence  of 
the  king  was  necessary  for  their  marriage  and 
the  reunion  of  the  estates.  Louis  XII.  highly 
approved  the  arrangement.  His  consent  was 
willingly  given,  and  the  marriage  solemnised  in 
1504,  Suzanne  being  in  her  fourteenth  year, 
while  Charles  had  just  entered  his  fifteenth. 

The  contract,  prepared  by  the  most  learned 
lawyers  of  the  day,  was  signed  by  the  king,  the 
princes,  the  officers  of  the  crown,  the  archbishop, 
and  fifteen  bishops.  By  this  union  Charles  was 
declared  sole  heir  of  the  House  of  Bourbon,  the 
bride  and  bridegroom  being  required  to  make  a 
reciprocal  donation  of  all  other  possessions  or 
rights  of  whatsoever  nature.  All  possibility  of 
future  dispute,  it  was  thought,  was  provided 
against. 

What  Duprat  relied  on  was  that  Suzanne  de 
Beaujeu  at  that  time  wanted  two  or  three  months 
of  being  of  the  legal  age  of  fourteen  to  be  able  to 
sign  such  a  contract  for  herself.  This  was  not  an 
oversight  on  the  part  of  the  lawyers.  They  knew, 
and  of  course  Duprat  also  knew,  that  in  mar- 
riages contracted  in  France  the  presence  of  the 
king  covered  any  defect  in  the  civil  conditions  of 
the  contract,  as  did  that  of  the  dignitaries  of  the 
Church  any  omission  in  ecclesiastical  ones. 


250  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  Comtesse  d'  Angouleme,  we  are  told,  was 
"irritated  beyond  measure.  Had  she  been  earlier 
informed  of  this  marriage,  she  might  have  raised 
obstacles  to  prevent  it.  She  resolved  on  revenge, 
but  meanwhile  strove  to  conquer  her  love."  This 
is  too  absurd  to  believe.  She  may  have  wished  to 
secure  the  boy  duke  for  her  daughter  Marguerite, 
then  twelve  years  old  ;  one  could  then  understand 
her  vexation  at  his  marriage. 

It  is  far  more  probable  that,  as  another  account 
states,  it  was  ten  years  later  —  when  he  appeared 
at  court  on  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  Claude 
de  France  and  Francis  d' Angouleme  — that  Bour- 
bon had  the  misfortune  to  inspire  that  unsought 
passionate  love  in  the  breast  of  the  depraved- 
minded  Louise  of  Savoy.  Bourbon  was  then  in 
his  twenty-fourth  year  —  a  handsome  man  of  dig- 
nified bearing,  carrying  off  the  palm,  even  from 
the  all-accomplished  Francis,  for  skill  and  dexterity 
in  the  tournaments  and  other  martial  games  during 
the  prolonged  festivities  of  that  singular  mourn- 
ing wedding  —  since  which  period  he  had  been  an 
object  of  jealousy  to  the  son,  and  was  now  the 
victim  of  the  persecuting  love  of  the  mother. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

The  Great  Bourbon  Prods. —  Bourbon  and  Charles  V.  —  A 
Wealthy  Bride  Offered.  —  111 -deserved  Treatment. — The 
Lieutenant-General. — Not  Such  a  Simpleton. —  Under  the 
Seal  of  Confession.  —  An  Importunate  Spy.  —  An  Insolent 
Subject. —  The  Bourbon  Plot. —The  Capital  in  Danger.— 
A  Horrifying  Announcement.  —  A  Too  Lenient  Parliament. 
—  A  Stratagem  of  Madame  Louise.  —  Mental  Agony.  —  A 
Gloomy  Procession.  —  A  Message  of  Mercy.  —  Letters  of 
Remission. 

'LL  Europe  was  awaiting  with  anxious 
interest  the  result  of  the  great  Bourbon 
proch  —  the  spoliation  by  the  king  and 
his  mother  of  a  powerful  and  valourous  prince  of 
the  blood ;  second  by  birth  but  first  by  merit,  and 
holding  the  high  office  of  Constable  of  France. 
The  ist  of  August  was  appointed  for  the  decision 
of  the  Parliament  in  this  matter  ;  when,  to  the 
angry  amazement  of  the  chancellor,  the  judges 
declared  themselves,  after  a  short  conference, 
sans  competence,  and  referred  the  whole  question 
to  the  consideration  of  the  Council  of  State. 

Indignant  at  the  affront  put  upon  them  as  a 
judicial  body  by  the  committal  to  prison  of  two  of 
their  members  for  representations  respecting  this 

251 


252  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

prods  displeasing  to  the  chancellor  Duprat,  they 
adopted  this  method  of  rejecting  the  grave  respon- 
sibility thrown  on  them  of  pronouncing  judgment 
in  an  affair  of  so  much  importance,  on  the  merits 
of  which  they  were  not  free  to  express  an  un- 
biassed opinion. 

Those  historians  who  speak  most  disparagingly 
of  Bourbon  —  disregarding  the  extreme  provoca- 
tion he  received  —  assert  that  "frenetic  pride,"  a 
haughty  disposition,  and  some  ulterior  ambitious 
views  on  the  crown  itself,  alone  suggested  his 
traitorous  projects.  While  in  retirement,  they 
tell  us,  he  deliberately  offered  his  sword  to  Charles 
V.,  and  swore  to  serve  him  against  all  opponents  ; 
leaving  to  him  the  stipulations  for  a  similar  alli- 
ance with  the  English  king.  His  conditions,  they 
say,  were  that  the  emperor  should  give  him  one  of 
his  sisters,  Eleanor  or  Catherine,  in  marriage,  with 
a  dowry  of  100,000  crowns,  and  enter  into  other 
arrangements  of  a  military  character  for  the  cap- 
ture of  the  king  and  dismemberment  of  France. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  stated  that  the  emperor 
narrowly  watched  the  proceedings  of  Francis  I. 
and  Madame  Louise,  and  saw  with  pleasure  Bour- 
bon's imprudent  enemies  driving  him  to  despair. 
Through  his  Flemish  emissaries  he  expressed 
much  sympathy  with  him,  and,  while  thus  increas- 
ing the  natural  irritability  of  wounded  pride, 
vaguely  insinuated,  that  his  ancestral  domains 
being    taken    from    him,    he    should    seek    others 


A    WEALTHY  BRIDE    OFFERED  253 

elsewhere ;  that  for  a  fortune  lost  a  fortune  might 
be  gained,  and  opportunity  occur  for  vengeance. 

The  emperor  then  offered  him  the  Princess 
Eleanor  in  marriage,  the  young  widow  of  Portu- 
gal's great  king,  Dom  Manuel,  with  a  fortune  of 
upwards  of  a  million  crowns,  and  much  wealth 
besides.  Bourbon,  on  his  part,  by  his  influence 
within  his  own  domains,  was  to  facilitate  the 
emperor's  recovery  of  Burgundy  ;  to  introduce  an 
army  of  lansquenets  into  Languedoc,  and  also  aid 
Henry  VIII.  in  recovering  his  lost  possessions  in 
France. 

To  expect  justice  from  the  Council  of  State 
were  vain  indeed,  as  Bourbon  well  knew.  Yet, 
to  hasten  on  the  proces,  he  repaired  once  more  to 
Paris.  His  projects,  or  the  projects  proposed  to 
him,  had  by  some  means  partly  transpired,  and 
when  Bourbon  was  paying  his  respects  one  day  to 
the  queen,  the  king  unexpectedly  entered. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Francis,  abruptly  ;  "  so  you  are 
going  to  marry." 

"  No,  sire." 

"  But  I  know  it.  I  am  sure  of  it.  I  know  of 
your  communications  with  the  emperor  !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, his  temper  rising.  "  Bear  well  in  mind 
what  I  tell  you,  and  beware  !  " 

"  Your  majesty  menaces  me!  "  replied  Bourbon, 
calmly.      "  I  have  not  deserved  this  treatment." 

He  then  left  the  queen's  apartment,  and  was 
followed  by  several  of  the   nobility,  who  had  wit- 


254  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

nessed  with  displeasure  this  display  of  the  king's 
ill-humour.*  Francis  was  disposed,  it  appears,  to 
prevent  Bourbon's  departure;  but  his  own  great 
unpopularity,  and  the  agitation  then  prevailing  in 
Paris,  restrained  him,  lest  consequences  other  than 
he  desired  should  flow  from  it.  No  command  had 
been  given  to  the  constable  in  the  army  about  to 
march  on  Lombardy.  But  Francis,  persuaded  by 
one  of  Bourbon's  friends  that  he  had  really  treated 
him  too  harshly,  considering  that  he  was  standing 
on  the  brink  of  ruin  by  the  threatened  confiscation 
of  his  estates,  named  him  lieutenant-general  of 
the  kingdom  conjointly  with  Madame  Louise,  who 
again  was  appointed  regent  during  his  absence. 

The  relations  existing  between  Bourbon  and 
Louise  made  such  a  nomination  an  insult,  rather 
than  a  mark  of  still  existing  respect  for  and  confi- 
dence in  him.  Could  the  king  dream  that  a 
marriage  between  them  was  still  possible!  It  is 
supposed  that  he  did,  and  would  have  been  glad 
that  thus  the  Bourbon  prods  should  have  ended. 
Francis,  notwithstanding,  thought  it  more  prudent 
that  the  lieutenant-general  —  who  does  not  appear 
to  have  accepted  the  appointment  —  should  accom- 
pany him  to  Italy  than  remain  in  France. 

He  was  then  at  Moulins,  ill,  or,  as  some  writers 
say,  feigning  illness.  He  had  partly  yielded  to 
the  emperor's  overtures,  with  the  view,  apparently, 

*  "Correspondence  of  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,"  quoted  by  Miche- 
let  and  II.  Martin. 


THE  LIEUTENANT-GENERAL  255 

of  bringing  the  king  to  make  terms  with  him 
from  dread  of  an  invasion  of  Burgundy,  and  thus 
obtaining  the  restitution  of  his  estates,  which  as 
an  act  of  justice  he  could  hardly  look  for.  Other- 
wise he  would  scarcely  have  declined  to  accept 
the  Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  the  insignia  of 
which  were  immediately  forwarded  to  him,  and 
thus  have  evaded  swearing  allegiance  to  Charles 
V.  He  failed,  also,  to  comply  with  the  vain 
request  of  Henry  VIII.,  who,  before  forwarding 
a  certain  sum  agreed  on  between  him  and  the 
emperor  for  the  equipment  of  troops,  would  have 
exacted  from  Bourbon  a  solemn  acknowledgment 
of  him  as  king  of  France  and  England,  and  his 
rightful  sovereign.* 

English  troops  had  landed  at  Calais  to  march  on 
Picardy,  and  a  Spanish  army  was  entering  France 
by  the  Pyrenees  —  as  arranged  by  Henry  and 
Charles  —  when  Francis,  not  heeding  the  attacks 
on  his  frontiers,  in  his  eagerness  again  to  invade 
Italy,  set  out  to  take  the  command  of  the  army  at 
Lyons,  stopping  at  Fontainebleau  for  a  few  days' 
diversion,  while  the  troops  marched  in  from  the 
provinces.  On  his  way  he  visited  Moulins  with 
the  intention  of  making  sure  of  Bourbon  by  taking 
him  with  him  to  Italy. 

*  Henry  had  greatly  noticed  Bourbon  at  the  tournaments  of 
the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  and  is  reported  to  have  said 
that  "if  he  were  his  subject  he  should  not  long  keep  his  head  on 
his  shoulders  " —  "so  haughty  was  his  mien." 


256  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

He  found  him  ill  and  keeping  his  bed.  To  con- 
sole him,  he  assured  him  that  he  need  be  under 
no  apprehension  of  losing  his  office  of  constable, 
and  also  promised  that  whatever  the  decision 
might  be  respecting  his  estates  —  whether  ad- 
judged to  the  crown  as  royal  fiefs,  or  to  his 
mother  as  her  inheritance  —  they  should  all  be 
restored  to  him.  Bourbon  knew  too  well  what  the 
king's  promises  were  worth,  and  by  what  influ- 
ences he  was  guided,  to  be  such  a  simpleton  — 
Brantome  says  —  as  to  put  any  faith  in  his  word. 

The  king  had  been  overtaken  cu  route  by  a  mes- 
senger from  the  regent,  with  the  information  that 
the  grand  seneschal  of  Normandy,  the  Sire  de 
Breze,  had  reported  that  two  gentlemen  of  that 
province  had  "  made  known  to  a  priest,  under  the 
seal  of  confession,"  that  a  great  personage  of  royal 
blood,  whose  name  was  not  mentioned,  had  con- 
spired against  the  state  with  the  emperor  and  the 
King  of  England  ;  and  that  these  gentlemen  had 
been  urged  to  join  the  conspiracy,  and  facilitate 
the  entry  of  English  troops  into  Normandy.  The 
regent  was  at  Blois.  The  priest  was  to  be  com- 
pelled to  name  these  two  gentlemen.  The  Sires 
de  Matignon  and  d'Arzonges  at  once  surrendered. 
The  chancellor  received  their  depositions,  in  which 
they  denounced  the  constable  Charles  de  Bourbon. 
Madame  la  Regente  forwarded  the  news  in  all 
haste  to  her  son. 

Without  referring  to  this  particular  communica- 


AAT  IMPORTUNATE   SPY  257 

tion  —  well  aware,  probably,  of  its  worthlessness  — 
the  king,  with  an  affectation  of  frankness  and 
trust,  said  that  "  he  had  been  warned  of  the 
emperor's  schemes  to  induce  him  to  enter  his  ser- 
vice." Bourbon  acknowledged  that  overtures  had 
been  made  to  him  which  he  had  not  encour- 
aged, and  had  reserved  mentioning  them  for  an 
opportunity  of  personal  communication  with  the 
king.  But  when  rather  urgently  pressed  by  Francis 
to  accompany  him  to  Lyons,  he  pleaded  his  illness 
as  an  excuse,  suspecting  some  snare.  His  physi- 
cian, however,  gave  an  assurance  of  his  patient 
being  able  to  make  the  journey  in  a  litter  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days.  Francis,  apparently  satis- 
fied, took  his  departure,  leaving  at  Moulins  one 
of  the  gentlemen  of  his  suite,  Perrot  de  Wartz, 
ostensibly  that  he  might  inform  him  of  Bourbon's 
progress  towards  recovery,  but  really  to  keep  a 
strict  watch  on  his  movements. 

To  free  himself  from  this  importunate  spy, 
Bourbon,  whose  illness  may  have  been  partly 
feigned,  set  out  a  few  days  after  for  Lyons,  travel- 
ling slowly  as  far  as  La  Palisse.  On  arriving  there, 
he  declared  that  he  was  unable  to  proceed  any 
further,  and  desired  De  Wartz  at  once  to  hasten  to 
Lyons  to  inform  the  king  of  his  relapse.  Profiting 
by  his  absence,  he  immediately  turned  back,  re- 
crossed  the  Allier,  and  reached  his  fortress  of 
Chant elle  on  the  borders  of  Bourbonnais  and 
Auvergne. 


258  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Thence  he  despatched  his  confidential  agent,  the 
Bishop  of  Autun,  with  a  letter  to  the  king,  prof- 
ering  him  loyal  service  and  fidelity  to  the  end  of 
his  life,  provided  he  were  pleased  at  once  to  restore 
the  possessions  he  had  inherited  on  the  decease 
of  the  late  Due  Pierre  de  Bourbon,  and  immedi- 
ately to  put  an  end  to  the  proch.  The  bishop 
was  taken  prisoner  on  his  journey  by  the  king's 
uncle,  the  "  Bastard  of  Savoy,"  commanding  a 
detachment  of  troops  sent  to  besiege  Bourbon  in 
Chantelle  on  hearing  of  his  flight  from  Moulins. 
His  papers  were  seized  and  sent  to  the  king,  the 
bishop  being  detained  as  a  suspected  agent  in  the 
negotiation  with  Charles  V. 

When  Francis  read  Bourbon's  letter,  he  gave 
way  to  one  of  his  paroxysms  of  wrath.  That  this 
insolent  subject  should  dare  to  speak  of  reserves 
and  conditions,  and  to  make  terms  as  the  price  of 
his  fidelity  ;  that  he  should  presume  to  treat  with 
him  as  an  equal !  —  the  enormity  of  such  a  crime 
exceeded  that  of  rebellion. 

As  soon  as  the  king's  angry  effervescence  had 
in  some  degree  expended  itself,  the  order  for 
Bourbon's  arrest  was  repeated  ;  a  price  set  on  his 
head  ;  and  several  companies  of  soldiers  marched 
on  Bourbonnais,  hoping  to  surround  him.  How- 
ever, the  constable,  probably  well  informed  of 
what  was  passing  at  Lyons,  where  Jean  de  Poitiers 
and  other  of  his  confidants  were  arrested,  had 
left   Chantelle  during  the  night  with  the  whole  of 


THE   BOURBON  PLOT  259 

the  gentlemen  of  his  household  some  hours  before 
the  arrival  of  the  "  Bastard,"  and  reached  Herment, 
a  small  town  of  Auvergne,  in  safety.  There  he 
took  leave  of  his  companions,  naming  Franche- 
Comte  as  their  place  of  meeting.  Accompanied 
only  by  the  Seigneur  de  Pomperant,  in  the  dis- 
guise of  an  archer,  Bourbon  adopting  that  of  his 
servant,  he  traversed  Dauphiny  and  Savoy,  eluding 
with  but  little  difficulty  the  not  over  -  zealous  pur- 
suit of  the  troops  that  were  scouring  the  country 
in  quest  of  him.  On  the  ninth  day  after  leaving 
Chantelle,  he  arrived  at  Sainte  Claude,  in  the  em- 
peror's dominions  of  Franche-Comte. 

•Sixty  of  his  friends,  who  had  also  contrived  to 
escape  the  vigilance  of  pursuers,  were  there  assem- 
bled ;  but  many  others,  less  fortunate  or  less 
favoured,  had  been  detected  and  arrested,  while 
nineteen  of  the  number  actually  made  prisoners 
had  en  route  successfully  taken  flight. 

Arrests  at  Lyons,  on  suspicion  of  complicity  in 
what  was  called  the  "  Bourbon  Plot,"  were  very 
numerous  —  persons  of  all  conditions  being  in- 
cluded in  it,  on  the  vaguest  grounds,  or  on  none 
at  all.  The  most  deeply  compromised,  or  sup- 
posed to  be,  was  Saint  Vallier,  captain  of  the  two 
hundred  gentlemen  of  the  king's  household,  who 
admitted  that  he  knew  of  Bourbon  being  in  com- 
munication with  the  emperor,  but  also  declared 
that  he  had  endeavoured  to  dissuade  him  from 
being  led  into  any  rash  enterprise.     The  Due   de 


260  THE    COURT   OF  FRANCE 

Vendome  and  other  Bourbon  princes  declared 
themselves  strangers  to  any  plot  in  which  the  head 
of  their  family  was  concerned. 

The  trial  of  the  conspirators  was  assigned  to 
the  Parliament  of  Paris.  The  Parisians  were  then 
in  some  alarm  for  the  safety  of  the  capital,  the 
English  army,  under  the  command  of  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  having  advanced  within  twelve  or  thirteen 
leagues  of  Paris.  They,  however,  advanced  no 
further,  news  of  the  emperor's  troops  having 
been  unsuccessful  in  Champagne  inducing  them 
to  withdraw  and  return  to  Artois.  But  slight 
damage  was  done,  and  no  advantage  was  gained 
by  them. 

The  king  remained  at  Lyons,  occupied  in  arrest- 
ing plotters  and  conspirators,  and  sending  them 
to  Paris  for  trial  and  judgment.  But  in  order  to 
reassure  the  Parisians  and  bid  them  be  of  good 
courage,  also  to  kindle  the  anger  of  the  judges  and 
induce  severity  in  their  sentences  on  the  criminals 
then  anxiously  awaiting  their  doom,  Francis  des- 
patched to  Paris  a  favourite  courtier,  the  Chevalier 
Chabot  de  Brion,  a  rather  boastful,  swaggering 
young  gentleman,  with  a  stirring  message  to  the 
Parliament  and  a  soothing  one  to  the  burghers. 
The  chevalier  informed  the  Parliament  that  "  the 
rebel  prince  had  intended  to  seize  the  sacred  person 
of  their  king  and  to  deliver  him  into  the  hands  of 
the  King  of  England,  and"  —  further  iniquity  — 
"proposed  to  make  mince-meat  of  the   royal  chil- 


A    HORRIFYING  ANNOUNCEMENT         26 1 

dren."  This  horrifying  announcement  appears  to 
have  excited  more  mirth  than  indignation. 

With  reference  to  the  possible  invasion  of  the 
capital,  he  begged  that  the  citizens  would  dismiss 
from  their  minds  all  uneasiness.  He  assured  them 
of  the  king's  love  and  thoughtfulness  for  them. 
"  He  has  sent  me  here,"  he  said,  "  to  defend  you." 
The  spokesman  of  the  assembled  burghers  replied 
to  this  presumptuous  youth  with  the  polite  rebuff 
that,  although  the  Seigneur  de  Brion  was  doubtless 
a  worthy  gentleman  and  high  in  the  favour  of  his 
sovereign,  yet  his  presence  in  the  capital  was  not 
of  itself  sufficient  to  give  confidence  to  the  citizens 
and  allay  the  fears  of  so  populous  and  important  a 
city  as  Paris. 

While  the  armies  of  the  confederates  were 
invading  France,  Bourbon  remained  inactive  in 
Franche-Comte.  Still  unwilling  to  take  the  irrev- 
ocable step,  he  deputed  his  sister,  the  Duchesse 
de  Lorraine,  to  endeavour  once  more  to  come  to 
an  arrangement  with  Francis  ;  and  some  sort  of 
vague  promise  was  given  to  hear  what  Bourbon 
could  say  in  his  defence  if  he  would  come  to  him. 
But  this  was  too  evasive  to  be  at  all  satisfactory. 
Bourbon  could  not  trust  him. 

Meanwhile  the  Parliament  was  dealing  with  the 
conspirators  far  too  leniently  to  please  the  king 
and  his  mother.  Against  ten  only  of  the  large 
number  of  persons  accused  could  they  find  that 
any  complicity  was   proved,  and   that   on   grounds 


262  THE    COURT   OF  FRANCE 

so  slight  that  a  fine  or  short  term  of  imprisonment 
was  the  severest  sentence  the  judges  could  be 
induced  to  inflict. 

Francis,  in  his  irritation  at  the  obstinacy  of  the 
Parliament  in  thus  refusing  to  make  justice  sub- 
servient to  his  desire  for  vengeance,  ordered  a 
certain  number  of  the  magistrates  of  Dijon,  Rouen, 
Toulouse,  and  Bordeaux  to  repair  to  Paris  for  the 
fuller  investigation  of  the  proceedings.  They, 
however,  merely  confirmed  the  sentences  of  the 
Parliament  of  Paris,  "finding  no  cause  for  their 
revision." 

Yet,  besides  the  formal  sentence  of  death  passed 
in  default  of  appearance  [par  contumace)  on  those 
who  had  escaped,  there  was  one  solitary  unfortu- 
nate convicted  of  Icsc  majestc,  and  condemned  to 
lose  his  head.  This  was  Jean  de  Poitiers,  Seig- 
neur de  Saint  Vallier,  of  the  younger  branch  of 
the  ducal  House  of  Aquitaine.  Francis  professed 
to  be  exceedingly  inveterate  towards  him,  declar- 
ing that  he  had  with  difficulty  refrained  from  killing 
him  with  his  own  hand,  with  so  much  horror  did 
he  regard  the  crime  of  an  officer  of  his  household 
conspiring  against  his  crown. 

Nevertheless,  the  judges,  it  appears,  disbelieved 
the  story  of  this  futile  conspiracy  attributed  to 
Bourbon,  and  so  strangely  made  known  by  a 
priest,  to  whom  it  was  said  to  be  revealed  under 
the  seal  of  confession.  They  regarded  it  as  a 
stratagem  of  Madame  Louise  and  her  chancellor 


MENTAL   AGONY  263 

further  to  incite  the  king  against  Bourbon  and 
prevent  any  possibility  of  negotiation  between 
them.  The  king  therefore  obtained  Saint  Vallier's 
condemnation  by  the  Parliament  only  on  condi- 
tion that  the  sentence  of  death  should  be  com- 
muted, or  a  pardon  granted  on  the  scaffold ;  so 
that  Francis  conceded,  at  the  entreaty  of  Saint 
Vallier's  daughter,  the  celebrated  Diane  de 
Poitiers,  nothing  but  what  had  already  been 
promised,  "  of  which  she  was  probably  then 
aware  "  (Michelet). 

But  Saint  Vallier  himself  was  not  aware  of  the 
arrangement.  His  punishment  certainly  far  ex- 
ceeded what  was  due  to  his  offence  —  that  of  hav- 
ing counselled  Bourbon  to  refrain  from  connect- 
ing himself  with  the  emperor,  instead  of  denounc- 
ing his  friend  as  a  traitor.  He  knew  that  he  was 
condemned  to  die  —  to  lose  his  head  on  the  scaf- 
fold. But  such  a  death  in  those  days  of  revolting 
cruelty,  of  disgusting  barbarity  —  more  especially 
if  the  offence  in  any  way  concerned  his  sacred 
majesty  —  was  generally  preceded  by  quartering 
or  tearing  to  pieces  by  four  horses,  and  other 
horrors  that  sicken  humanity  to  mention. 

Saint  Vallier's  terror  of  the  death  that  awaited 
him  was  so  intense  that,  during  the  night  preced- 
ing his  intended  execution,  his  hair  became  per- 
fectly white.  Anxiety  and  grief  had  also  so 
changed  his  countenance,  given  him  so  aged  an 
appearance,  that  his  guards  were  startled  and  ter- 


264  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

rified  when,  on  daylight  appearing,  they  saw  a 
man  whom  they  did  not  recognize ;  their  first 
impression  being  that  the  prisoner  had  escaped, 
and  that  another  person  had  taken  his  place. 

Mere  personal  fear,  in  all  probability,  had  not 
induced  this  mental  agony.  Saint  Vallier  bore  a 
noble  name,  on  which  dishonour  was  brought  by 
his  death  on  the  scaffold  as  a  traitor  to  his  coun- 
try and  king.  He  had  a  young  daughter,  the  wife 
of  the  man  to  whom  the  strange  priest  had  re- 
vealed the  secrets  of  the  confessional,  who  was 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  of  her  day. 
What  sorrow,  what  disgrace,  what  lifelong  unhap- 
piness  he  has  brought  on  her  ! 

The  winter  of  1 523-1524  was  one  of  excep- 
tional severity,  and  misery,  poverty,  and  disease 
prevailed  in  that  wretched  old  Paris.  Snow 
trampled  into  black  mud  filled  the  turnings  and 
windings  of  its  network  of  narrow  streets,  and 
lodged  a  foot  deep  in  the  fore-courts  of  the  walled- 
in  hotels  of  the  nobility.  The  regent  and  her 
court  were  at  Blois  ;  the  queen,  then  suffering  in 
her  health,  was  at  Amboise  with  Madame  Renee 
and  her  ladies  ;  while  the  king,  attended  by  sev- 
eral of  his  courtiers  and  favourites,  and  accom- 
panied by  Madame  la  Comtesse  and  her  suite, 
was  at  Lyons. 

All  is  movement,  gaiety,  and  animation  there. 
In  Paris  a  different  scene  presents  itself.  It  is 
the   17th  of  February  —  a  murky  morning,  with 


A    GLOOMY  PAOCESSIOJV  26 


cold,  drizzling  rain,  a  leaden  sky,  and  semi-dark- 
ness. A  gloomy  procession  enters  the  Place  de 
Greve  —  a  man  bowed  down  apparently  by  age  or 
illness,  surrounded  by  guards,  and  supported  by 
two  priests.  He  ascends  the  scaffold,  and,  at  the 
moment  that  he  meekly  bows  his  head  to  receive 
the  fatal  blow,  the  priest,  who  knows  who  is  ap- 
proaching, seizes  the  uplifted  arm  of  the  execu- 
tioner, as  though  already  he  heard  the  sound  of 
horses'  hoofs,  and  arrests  the  fall  of  the  hatchet. 
For  the  rider  is  a  few  seconds  behind  his  time  ; 
and  but  for  the  prompt  action  of  the  priest,  "  the 
message  of  mercy"  would  have  arrived  a  few  sec- 
onds too  late. 

But  he  comes  —  he  comes  !  A  herald  from  the 
king.  He  seems  to  have  been  riding  for  his  very 
life. 

"  Grace  !  grace  !  "  he  exclaims,  as  he  holds  up  a 
letter,  which  is  delivered  to  the  priest,  while  the 
few  spectators  of  the  dreary  scene  applaud  their 
gracious  monarch's  clemency. 

"  Life  is  spared  !  —  granted  by  the  king,"  Saint 
Vallier  is  told,  "  at  the  entreaty  of  the  beautiful 
Diane."  But  Saint  Vallier  does  not  share  the  ex- 
ultation with  which  those  around  him  welcome 
the  joyful  news.  He  seems  scarcely  to  compre- 
hend it,  and  bends  his  head  as  though  he  would 
invite  the  executioner  to  delay  no  longer  the  fatal 
stroke.  Then  suddenly  raising  himself,  he  utters 
an   imprecation    on   the   libertine    king,   and  vows 


266  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

that  he  will  slay  him  !  But  the  king's  "  message 
of  mercy"  does  not  set  him  free.  Francis  has 
not  had  the  magnanimity  to  pardon.  He  has 
spared  Saint  Vallier's  life ;  but  only  to  transfer 
him  from  the  scaffold  to  a  living  tomb. 

Happily,  however,  the  father's  fears  are  un- 
founded. The  small  concession  ostensibly  made 
to  Diane's  urgent  prayer  has  not  been  purchased 
at  a  price  that  would  make  life,  even  with  restora- 
tion to  freedom  and  honour,  hateful  to  him. 
Thus  reassured,  his  mind  relieved  of  a  bitter  pang, 
he  can  resign  himself  to  the  doom  his  sovereign 
has  awarded  him.* 

The  "letters  of  remission"  run  thus:  "That 
the  Seigneur  de  Saint  Vallier  be  imprisoned  for 
the  rest  of  his  life  within  four  walls,  where  day- 
light shall  be  admitted  and  food  supplied  to  him 
only  through  a  small  grated  window."  It  appears 
that  he  either  escaped  or  was  liberated  some  two 
or  three  years  later,  and  some  writers  assert  that 
he  was  living  at  his  Chateau  of  Pisancon  in  1539, 
where  he  made  a  will,  though  they  do  not  give 
the  date  of  his  death  (Servan,  notes  to  "  Guerres 
des  Frangais  "). 

*The  evil  repute  in  which  Francis  I.  was  generally  held  is 
attested  by  the  "Journal  d'un  Bourgeois  de  Paris"  1524.  Many 
aspersions,  probably  wholly  unfounded,  have  been  cast  on  the 
character  of  the  celebrated  Diane  de  Poitiers,  on  the  faith  of  a 
doubtful  correspondence  attributed  to  her  and  Francis. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

Sufferings  of  the  Troops.—  Bonnivet  Wounded. —  The  Chevalier 
Bayard.— Death  of  the  Chevalier. —  A  True  Knight  —  Great 
and  Good. —  Driven  Out  of  Italy. —  Marseilles  Besieged.— 
Three  Needy  Monarchs. —  A  March  into  Picardy  and  Back. 

—  The  Spoils  of  Mexico  and  Peru. — War  Resumed  in  Italy. 

—  Death  of  Queen  Claude. — A  Compliment  to  the  Queen. 

—  Funeral  of  Queen  Claude. —  "Plague -stricken  Milan!"  — 
Antonio  da  Leyva. —  The  Sentiment  of  Honour. —  Georges 
Freundsburg. —  Honour  to  Whom  Honour  is  Due. —  The 
Battle  of  Pavia. —  A  Delicate  Sense  of  Honour.  —  Francis  a 
Prisoner. 


fWING  to  delays  occasioned  by  the  flight 
of  Bourbon,  the  arrest  of  his  partisans 
and  their  prosecution,  a  change  became 
necessary  in  the  plan  of  the  proposed  Italian  cam- 
paign. The  king,  in  fact,  was  obliged  to  resign 
himself  to  remaining  in  France,  and  giving  up  the 
command -in -chief  for  this  year  to  his  alter  ego 
Bonnivet,  charged  to  reconquer  Italy.  The 
winter  set  in  very  early  and  with  extreme  rigour. 
The  sufferings  of  the  famished  troops,  shoeless 
and  half-naked,  were  terrible  —  their  ranks  being 
daily  thinned  by  want  and  disease,  and  the  har- 
assing system  of  warfare  with  which  the  old  gen-  ' 
eral  Prospero  Colonna  exhausted  and  disheartened^ 
them. 

267 

OOtfdecK    CM  a, 


fil^^oh  a-^vM  ,'B'tnni 


268  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  Swiss  still  continued  to  aid  in  fighting  the 
battles  of  Europe,  in  spite  of  the  difficulty  of  ob- 
taining their  pay  from  the  sovereigns  they  served 

—  but  revenging  themselves  by  pillage,  or  by 
desertion  when  their  services  were  most  needed. 
On  this  occasion,  they  forsook  both  armies  and 
marched  back  to  their  mountains,  in  defiance  of 
all  efforts  to  retain  them. 

After  a  series  of  misfortunes  and  many  mistakes 

—  Bonnivet  leading  his  troops  into  perilous  posi- 
tions, but  wanting  military  talent  to  extricate 
them — a  musket  shot  in  the  shoulder,  fortunately 
for  the  remnant  of  his  army,  disabled  their  incom- 
petent commander.  The  Chevalier  Bayard,  des- 
tined to  lead  forlorn  hopes,  and  to  be  called  to 
posts  of  clanger,  was  implored  at  this  critical 
moment  to  save  what  remained  of  the  miserable 
and  menaced  French  army. 

"  Save  it,  if  possible,  Messire  de  Bayard !  "  ex- 
claimed Bonnivet,  as  he  was  borne  beyond  the 
range  of  the  enemy's  guns,  for  the  dressing  of  his 
wound. 

"  Late  though  it  be,"  replied  Bayard,  "  I  will 
save  it,  if  it  costs  me  my  life."  Vandenesse, 
Bayard's  companion-in-arms,  made  the  same  vow, 
and,  placing  themselves  at  the  head  of  their  men, 
sustained,  with  desperate  courage,  the  shock  of  the 
enemy's  troops,  thus  gaining  time  for  their  country- 
men to  make  good  their  retreat,  covered  by  a  small 
detachment  under  the  Comte  de  Saint  Pol. 


THE    CHEVALIER  BAYARD  269 

But  the  Chevalier  Bayard,  the  chevalier  par 
excellence,  the  knight  "  without  fear  and  without 
reproach,"  was  mortally  wounded  (30th  of  April, 
1524).  Feeling  that  he  had  received  his  death- 
blow, he  requested  to  be  assisted  to  dismount  and 
placed  under  a  tree,  with  "  his  face  towards  the 
enemy,  never,"  as  he  said,  "  having  turned  his 
back  to  them."  Fixing  his  eyes  on  the  guard  of 
his  sword,  held  upwards  to  serve  as  a  cross,  he 
made  his  confession  — -  no  priest  being  at  hand  — 
to  one  of  his  attendants.  Then,  desiring  that  they 
would  leave  him  and  look  to  their  own  safety, 
he  addressed  his  prayer  to  God,  and  with  calmness 
and  serenity  awaited  the  approach  of  death. 

Bourbon  —  in  pursuit  of  Bonnivet,  a  man  he 
detested  and  who  was  the  cause  of  much  of  the 
ill-will  the  king  had  displayed  towards  him  —  was 
passing  the  spot  where  the  dying  chevalier  lay. 
Reining  up  his  horse,  he  expressed  much  concern 
and  sympathy  at  finding  the  noble-minded,  gallant 
Bayard  in  so  sad  a  condition.  But,  with  failing 
breath,  he  answered :  "  Pity  me  not ;  I  die  as  a 
man  of  honour.  It  is  I  who  should  pity  you,  to 
find  you  serving  against  your  prince,  your  coun- 
try, and  your  oath."  Bourbon  is  said  to  have 
passed  on  without  reply.*  Bayard's  friend,  the 
brave  Vandenesse,  was  also  killed  by  a  shot  from 
an  arquebuse. 

*  Martin  du  Bellay. 


270  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  Marquis  da  Pescara,  who,  with  Bourbon, 
commanded  the  imperial  army,  on  hearing  that 
Bayard  was  dangerously  wounded,  and  could  not 
be  moved  from  the  spot  he  had  been  placed  in, 
ordered  a  tent  to  be  pitched  there,  and  sent  his 
surgeon  to  attend  him.  But  the  chevalier's  hours 
were  numbered.  He  died  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  wept  and  regretted  by  those  who  had  caused 
his  death,  "  his  last  acts  being  characterised  by 
the  same  heroic  and  Christian  simplicity  as  had 
distinguished  him  through  life." 

His  body,  by  Pescara's  direction,  was  embalmed 
and  sent  to  his  family  in  Dauphiny.  As  the 
cortege  traversed  the  dominions  of  the  Duke  of 
Savoy,  by  his  orders  royal  honours  were  paid  to 
Bayard  in  every  town.  On  arriving  at  Dauphiny, 
the  whole  population,  from  the  Alps  to  Grenoble, 
accompanied  the  body  to  its  resting-place.  A 
month  of  strict  mourning  was  observed  through- 
out the  province  —  all  fetes  and  amusements  by 
general  consent  being  abstained  from. 

Bayard's  noble  and  generous  treatment  —  rare 
in  those  days  —  of  the  prisoners  whom  the  chances 
of  war  had  thrown  into  his  hands,  had  gained  him 
admirers  and  friends  among  rival  and  opposing 
nations  as  well  as  in  France.  "His  life  was  but 
a  series  of  brilliant  achievements  and  virtuous 
actions.  Always  victorious  in  the  tournaments 
and  single  combats,  daring  in  surprises,  ably  con- 
ducting expeditions  more  important,  he  was  the 


A    TRUE   KNIGHT— GREAT  AND    GOOD    2Jl 

most  distinguished  of  warriors^  Gentle,  un-  J 
affected,  unassuming  in  society,  tender  and  re- 
spectful lover,  sincere  friend,  and  true  chevalier, 
humane  and  liberal,  he  was  the  best  of  men.  One 
cannot  read  without  emotion,  admiration,  and  pleas- 
ure, of  all  he  did  for  humanity,  for  glory,  and  for 
gallantry, —  his  beneficence,  while  heightening  his 
other  virtues,  adding  a  touching  interest  to  the 
greatness  of  his  military  reputation."     (Servan.) 

The  ideal  hero  of  the  old  chivalric  romances 
seems  to  have  never  in  reality  been  more  nearly 
approached  than  in  the  person  of  the  noble  Chev- 
alier Bayard,  with  whom  chivalry  may  be  said  to 
have  ended.* 

The  complete  evacuation  of  Italy  followed  the 
death  of  Bayard, —  Admiral  Bonnivet,  whose 
wounds  do  not  appear  to  have  been  very  serious, 
leading  back  the  shattered  remains  of  his  army 
into  France.  In  the  rear  of  that  miserable  army 
—  whose  ranks  grew  thinner  and  thinner  as, 
worn  out  by  fatigue  and  disease,  the  unfortunate 
soldiers  dropped  down  on  their  homeward  march, 
strewing  the  roads  with  the  dying  and  the  dead  — 

*  The  narrative  of  his  heroic  deeds  ("  Gestes  du  bon  Cheva- 
lier'"), an  anonymous  work  dedicated  to  the  three  estates  of 
the  realm  by  a  contemporary  writer  —  attached  friend  or 
dependent — who  adopts  the  pseudonym  of  "  Loyal  Serviteur" 
is  perhaps  the  most  interesting  and  trustworthy  of  the  many 
works  that  have  been  written  in  praise  of  "  the  noblest  man  in 
France,"  whom  both  contemporaries  and  posterity  have  agreed 
to  name  " Le  chevalier  sans peur  ct  sans  refiroche."' 


27 '2  ^A^    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

was  a  weary  -  footed  multitude  of  the  wretched 
inhabitants  of  the  towns  of  Lombardy,  who  had 
either  been  driven  out  with  the  French,  or,  being 
utterly  ruined,  in  their  desperation  had  followed 
the  devastators  of  their  homes  to  seek  a  refuge 
in  their  country,  and  possibly  a  means  of  liveli- 
hood. 

Bonnivet  was  a  favourite  of  Madame  Louise  as 
well  as  of  her  son.  A  gracious  reception  there- 
fore awaited  him,  notwithstanding  the  errors  he 
had  committed,  the  loss  of  three -fourths  of  his 
army,  and  his  ignominious  flight  from  Milan. 
But  another  favourite,  Chabot  de  Brion,  had 
been  more  successful  in  aiding  the  Marseillais  to 
defend  their  city,  which  had  been  attacked  by  the 
imperialist  troops  on  the  land  side.  They  were 
speedily  compelled  to  raise  the  siege  and  decamp, 
while  the  French  fleet  had  beaten  off  the  Spanish 
admiral's  ships  destined  to  aid  the  besieging  army 
by  a  blockade  of  the  port. 

The  emperor  had  named  Bourbon  lieutenant- 
general  of  the  imperial  armies.  The  command 
was,  however,  shared  with  the  Spanish  general 
Pescara,  an  arrangement  which  led  to  jealousy 
and  disagreement.  Bourbon,  on  heading  his 
division  of  the  forces,  had  intended  to  march  on 
Lyons  and  his  own  domains  in  Bourbonnais,  etc., 
where  he  expected  to  be  received  with  open  arms. 
But  the  emperor,  believing  that  Bourbon  would 
then  avail  himself  of  the  opportunity  of  making 


THREE  NEEDY  MONARCHS  273 

terms  with  Francis  and  sacrifice  imperial  interests 
to  his  own,  ordered  an  attack  to  be  first  made  on 
Marseilles. 

Charles  was  very  anxious  to  obtain  possession 
of  that  port.  It  would  have  been  as  convenient 
to  him  to  have  his  Calais  by  which  to  enter  France 
on  the  south,  as  it  was  to  Henry  VIII.  to  possess 
that  facility  in  the  north.  Bourbon,  though  not 
pleased  with  the  order  that  frustrated  his  own 
plans,  was  yet  little  disposed,  when  once  the 
attack  was  made,  to  raise  the  siege  and  evacuate 
Provence.  The  idea  of  retreating  before  Francis 
enraged  him.  He  therefore  proposed  a  renewal 
of  the  attack  on  the  following  day,  which  was 
overruled  by  Pescara. 

The  military  authorities  state  that  Francis 
should  then  have  made  peace.  The  army  of 
Marseilles  had  been  raised  by  means  of  the  most 
onerous  taxes,  the  most  shameful  exactions,  and 
cessation  from  war  was  necessary  for  the  prosper- 
ity of  the  country.  Commerce  was  almost  at  a 
standstill.  Men  were  taken  from  their  occupa- 
tions, their  families  left  unprovided  for,  and 
famine  and  disease  were  general.  Henry  and 
Charles  were  as  much  in  want  of  money  for  the 
support  of  their  armies  and  the  carrying  out  of 
their  schemes  of  conquest  as  Francis  himself. 

But,  elated  by  his  success  at  Marseilles,  the 
king  determined  to  carry  his  conquering  arms  once 
more    into    Italy,    and    in  person    to    avenge  the 


274  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

reverses  of  Lautrec  and  Bonnivet,  and  the  death 
ipi  the  brave  Chevalier  Bayard. 

Clement  VII.  (Giulio  de'  Medici),  who,  to  the 
disgust  of  Wolsey,  had  succeeded  Adrian  VI., 
proposed  his  mediation,  with  a  view  to  a  general 
peace.  Like  his  predecessors,  he  would  have 
preferred  to  keep  the  French  out  of  Italy.  But 
Wolsey,  whose  hopes  of  reigning  in  Rome  had 
been  rudely  cast  down  by  the  election  of  Clement, 
a  man  in  the  prime  of  life,  evinced  much  luke- 
warmness  when  peace  was  proposed ;  being  un- 
willing to  facilitate  a  project  emanating  from  his 
successful  competitor.  He  resented  the  little  zeal 
the  emperor  had  displayed  on  his  behalf,  after  the 
many  assurances  he  had  given  him  of  his  firm 
support  in  the  conclave. 

Again,  then,  he  inclined  towards  the  French 
alliance,  and,  though  not  venturing  immediately 
to  recur  to  it,  yet  meditated  gradually  bringing 
over  his  royal  master  to  his  views.  Henry  VIII. 
may  be  said  to  have  virtually  withdrawn  from  the 
coalition  against  France  after  Suffolk's  fruitless 
march  into  Picardy  and  back  again.  His  atten- 
tion was  now  more  particularly  occupied  with  the 
movements  of  the  Scotch,  and  in  taking  measures 
to  repel  their  invasions. 

The  emperor,  on  his  part,  was  too  eagerly 
intent  on  conquest  to  give  any  serious  heed  to 
Clement's  peaceful  views,  though  scarcely  know- 
ing whither  to  turn  for  the  funds  needed  for  that 


THE  SPOILS   OF  MEXICO   AND   PERU      2?$ 

object.  Yet  Mexico  was  then  pouring  her  riches 
into  Spain  ;  not,  however,  into  the  Spanish  king's 
treasury.  That  remained  empty,  while  many  a 
noble  Hidalgo,  who  with  a  very  great  name  —  or, 
one  should  rather  say,  many  very  great  names, 
and  nothing  but  his  sword  for  the  upholding  of 
their  dignity — two  or  three  years  later,  having 
joined  the  conquering  expeditions  of  Pizarro,  sud- 
denly became  the  possessor  of  millions  many  times 
told  —  "rich  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice." 

Men  of  the  humblest  condition  who  had  had 
any  part  in  those  adventures  were  able  to  make 
ease  and  idleness  their  sole  occupation  for  the  rest 
of  their  lives.  Ill-gotten  wealth,  indeed,  obtained 
by  crimes  and  atrocities  at  the  very  mention  of 
which  the  blood  curdles.  The  emperor  king's 
share  of  the  booty  was  the  smallest.  The  first 
fruits  of  the  spoils  of  Mexico,  sent  to  him  by 
Cortes,  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  French  corsair, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  reign  of  Charles's  suc- 
cessor, Philip  II.,  when  the  conquest  of  Peru  was 
more  complete,  that  the  monarchs  of  Spain  greatly 
profited  by  the  enormous  influx  of  the  precious 
metals  —  the  proceeds  of  rapine,  cruelty,  and 
bloodshed. 

The  consequences  of  this  sudden  and  immod- 
erate increase  of  wealth  were  very  disastrous  for 
Spain.  Her  commercial  prosperity  declined.  Con- 
tempt for  labour  became  a  national  vice,  and  Spain, 
who  had  looked  to  conquer  the  sceptre  of  the  world 


r 


276  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

with  her  gold  as  well  as  her  arms,  was  destined  to 
see  that  fatal  and  criminal  gold  pass  by  degrees 
out  of  her  superbly  idle  hands  into  the  laborious 
ones  of  other  nations.  "  After  having  depopu- 
lated America,  Spain,  before  the  end  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  began  to  be  dispeopled  and  ruined 
herself"  (H.  Martin). 

It  was  towards  the  middle  of  October  when 
Francis  I.,  contrary  to  the  advice  of  his  most 
experienced  officers,  La  Tremouille,  La  Palice, 
and  others,  resolved  on  resuming  the  war  in  Italy. 
They  were  rather  weary  of  this  everlasting  ultra- 
montane warring  ;  but  to  take  the  field  so  late  in 
the  year  they  regarded  as  little  better  than  mad- 
ness. Vainly,  however,  did  they  remind  the  king 
of  the  great  suffering  in  the  late  campaign,  which 
must  necessarily  be  again  endured  by  the  troops, 
with  the  probable  loss  of  life  that  would  ensue 
from  exposure  to  the  rigours  of  a  winter  passed 
under  tents.  But  Francis  preferred  the  advice  of 
the  young  generals  who  had  been  engaged  at 
Marseilles.  Especially  he  relied  on  the  counsels 
of  the  able  commander  who  had  just  lost  him  an 
army  and  "his  heritage." 

Bonnivet's  voice  was  decidedly  for  war.  But  so 
unpopular  was  he  with  the  troops  that  the  detach- 
ment he  was  to  lead  in  this  new  expedition,  by 
threats  of  punishment  could  alone  be  induced  to 
serve  under  him.  His  favour  with  Francis,  how- 
ever, had  rather  increased  than  abated  ;  for  Bonni- 


DEATH  OF  QUEEN  CLAUDE  277 

vet,  knowing  his  sovereign's  admiration  of  beauty, 
had  described  to  him  in  such  glowing  terms  the 
marvellous  loveliness  of  a  young  Milanese  lady, 
the  Signora  Clarissa,  that  his  ardent  desire  to  see 
her  was  the  real  motive  of  the  hasty  resolve  of  a 
winter  campaign  in  Italy.  The  resolve  was  worthy 
of  a  "chevalier  king."  To  rescue  lovely  damsels 
from  real  or  fancied  dangers  was  one  of  the  imper- 
ative duties  of  chivalry. 

But  although  this  royal  libertine  could  cross  the 
Alps  in  pursuit  of  his  pleasures,  he  was  unable  or 
unwilling  to  tear  himself  from  the  fascinations 
and  depravity  of  the  life  he  led  at  Lyons  to  visit 
his  dying  young  wife.  The  amiable  and  gentle 
Queen  Claude,  after  several  months  of  suffering, 
had  recently  died  at  the  Chateau  de  Blois,  in  her 
twenty -fifth  year.  She  had  habitually  lived  in 
great  retirement,  much  occupied  with  the  educa- 
tion of  her  young  sister  Renee,  and  with  her  chil- 
dren —  three  sons  and  two  daughters,  the  eldest 
then  seven  years  of  age.  The  king's  mother  had 
usurped  her  place  as  queen,  as  by  her  overbearing 
will  and  restless  ambition  she  had  also  usurped 
the  government  of  the  country,  whether  formally 
invested  with  authority  as  regent  or  not. 

The  king's  affections  were  chiefly  bestowed, 
such  as  they  were,  on  his  mother  and  sister. 
Claude  had  no  part  in  them,  and  exercised  no 
wifely  influence  over  him.  What  tenderness  or 
affection  he  had  in  reserve  then  belonged  more  or 


278  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

less  to  the  Comtesse  de  Chateaubriand,  his  chief 
mistress,  whose  wiles  and  graces  made  her  a  for- 
midable rival  to  Madame  Louise,  who,  for  a  long 
time,  vainly  strove  to  detach  the  king  from  her. 

The  court  tacitly  accepted  the  countess  as 
maltresse  -  en  -titre,  though  not  openly  avowed  by 
the  king.  She  too,  it  appears,  was  not  desirous 
of  bearing  that  honourable  title.  The  fears  of  her 
husband  on  her  first  appearance  at  court  were,  it 
may  be  probably  inferred  from  their  subsequent 
reunion,  set  at  rest  by  that  omission  ;  while  her 
brutal  brothers,  whatever  advancement  they  may 
have  owed  to  her  influence,  certainly  preferred  to 
believe  it  due  to  their  own  superlative  merits. 
That  there  was  no  declared  mattress e-en-titre  in 
the  lifetime  of  the  queen  was,  however,  said  to  be 
a  compliment  that  Francis  felt  compelled  to  pay 
to  the  virtue  of  his  wife,  and  to  the  sentiment  of 
veneration  in  which  she  was  held  by  the  public. 

But  very  different  was  the  feeling  of  the  public 
towards  their  profligate  king.  Never  at  any  time 
approaching  the  enthusiasm  and  affection  which 
M.  Ranke  is  almost  alone  in  asserting  that  Francis 
inspired,  it  became  more  bitterly  antagonistic  than 
before  when  his  heartlessness  and  utter  want  of 
respect  to  the  memory  of  the  pious  daughter  of 
the  much-revered  Louis  XII.  was  generally  known. 

Queen  Claude  was  temporarily  entombed  at 
Blois.  Her  funeral  at  St.  Denis,  together  with 
that  of  the  infant  daughter  who  died  in  151 7,  did 


Castle  of  Blois. 

Photo-etching  from  a  photograph. 


FUNERAL    OF  QUEEN  CLAUDE  2jq 

not  take  place  until  two  years  after,  when  the  cere- 
mony was  performed  with  great  pomp  and  state, 
the  carriers  of  salt  attending  in  full  force.*  The 
superstition  of  the  time  sent  many  afflicted  pilgrims 
to  the  tomb  of  "the  good  Queen  Claude,"  and 
frequent  miraculous  cures  were  attributed  to  her. 

As  nothing  could  shake  the  king's  resolution  to 
march  at  once  on  Milan,  opposition  gave  way 
before  his  persistency,  lest  prudent  counsels  should 
be  stigmatised  as  cowardly  unwillingness  to  face 
danger  with  him.  The  French  army  was  now 
45,000  strong,  having  been  augmented  by  15,000 
Swiss,  of  whose  proneness  to  desert  in  a  body  at 
any  moment  the  humour  seized  them  Francis  had 
been  vainly  reminded.  With  the  king  at  their 
head,  they  passed  the  Alps  at  Mont  Cenis,  and 
marched  direct  on  Milan. 

But  with  all  their  diligence  to  anticipate  the  im- 
perialists, — -  who,  being  obliged  to  take  the  longer 
route  by  Monaco  and  Fiscol,  were  with  the  same 
object  making  forced  marches,  —  as  a  detachment 
of  the  French,  under  the  Marquis  de  Saluzzo, 
entered  the  city  by  one  gate,  the  imperialists, 
commanded  by  the  Viceroy  of  Naples,  Lannoy, 
appeared  at  the  other.  The  latter  would  have  had 
the  inhabitants  oppose  an  armed  resistance  to  the 

*  This  was  in  virtue  of  their  singular  privilege,  of  ancient 
date,  of  carrying  the  bodies  of  deceased  royalty  as  far  as  the 
first  cross  of  St.  Denis,  when  they  gave  up  their  burden  to  the 
monks  of  the  abbey. 


2  8o  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

entry  of  the  French.  But  so  terrible  had  been 
the  ravages  of  the  plague  that  the  once  populous 
capital  had  become  one  vast  desert.  Exhausted, 
ruined,  overwhelmed  by  the  miseries  of  war,  of 
which  their  country  was  unceasingly  the  battle- 
ground, deep  dejection  had  settled  on  the  languid 
survivors  of  the  sad  catastrophe,  and  rendered  them 
incapable  of  a  courageous  resolution  (Servan). 
Whether  the  lovely  Miss  Clarissa  had  fallen  a 
victim  to  the  terrible  epidemic  with  which  Milan 
had  been  visited  we  are  not  informed.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  she  escaped  both  the  plague  and 
the  "chevalier  king's"  attentions. 
^j^  \  £  *  Possession  of  the  plague  -  stricken  capital,  of 
\\a.n  k?"  which  the  French  were  left  the  undisturbed  mas- 
ters, did  not  imply  possession  of  the  duchy  ;  to 
accomplish  which  many  more  important  conquests 
were  yet  to  be  made  than  that  of  a  depopulated 
city  whose  feeble  surviving  inhabitants  had  neither 
energy  nor  desire  to  defend  themselves.  Lannoy 
had  retired  to  Lodi  to  await  expected  reinforce- 
ments. The  strongly  fortified  city  of  Pavia,  with  a 
garrison  of  6,000  men,  was  occupied  by  the  famous 
Spanish  general,  Antonio  da  Leyva  —  so  skilful  a 
leader,  so  pitilessly  cruel  a  conqueror. 

The  French  had  encamped  themselves  very  ad- 
vantageously in  and  near  the  chateau  and  park 
of  Mirabella,  where  Francis  assembled  a  military 
council,  composed  of  officers  experienced  and  pru- 
dent, with  others  as  brave,  undoubtedly,  but  young, 


THE   SENTIMENT  OF  HONOUR  28  I 

rash,  and  without  judgment,  to  decide  whether 
Lodi  or  Pavia  should  first  be  attacked. 

Charles  V.  rarely,  if  ever,  it  appears,  commanded 
in  person.  At  the  period  in  question,  he  was  in 
Spain  ill  of  a  quartan  ague,  and  so  utterly  desti- 
tute of  funds  that  the  pay  of  his  army  (which, 
wide  as  his  dominion  was,  and  wider  still  his  vast 
ambition  to  make  it,  did  not  amount  to  more  than 
16,000  men)  was  many  months  in  arrear,  destitute 
also  of  ammunition,  provisions,  clothing,  and  every 
necessary  for  its  efficient  equipment.  When 
Henry  VIII.  was  applied  to  for  the  contribution 
which  he  had  promised  to  pay  monthly  towards 
carrying  on  the  war  against  France,  he  not  only 
refused  it,  but  demanded  repayment  of  the  sum 
already  advanced. 

The  various  peoples  Charles  ruled  over  were 
alike  unwilling  to  burden  themselves  with  the 
expense  of  his  wars,  and  his  authority  was  so  re- 
stricted that  he  was  unable  to  follow  the  example 
of  Francis  I.  and  invent  and  levy  taxes  at  his  own 
good  pleasure.  With  difficulty,  then,  were  the  mis- 
erable troops  shut  up  in  Lodi  and  Pavia  restrained 
by  their  officers  from  open  mutiny.  Of  little 
effect  were  the  splendid  hopes  held  out  of  much 
booty,  if  no  pay,  in  store  for  them,  and  slight  the 
impression  made  by  harangues  to  inspire  them  with 
the  sentiment  of  honour  and  with  endurance  for 
honour's  sake.  To  afford  them  some  slight  relief, 
Lannoy  mortgaged  the  revenues  of    Naples,  and 


L 


252  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Leyva  determined  on  taking  the  sacred  vessels  of 
the  Church,  and  the  shrines  of  the  saints,  which 
were  melted  down  and  converted  into  a  sort  of 
money,  to  satisfy  the  urgent  needs  of  the  moment. 

The  siege  of  Pavia  began  on  the  20th  of 
October.  Francis,  who  is  said  to  have  known 
nothing  of  the  science  of  war  as  conducted  by  the 
experienced  captains  of  those  days,  rejected  the 
counsels  of  those  who  recommended  Lodi  as  the 
point  of  attack,  while  explaining  to  him  the  prob- 
able advantages  and  almost  certain  victory  he 
might  thus  secure.  Bonnivet's  advice  and  opinion 
were  opposed  to  theirs,  and,  being  seconded  by 
that  of  several  of  the  young  nobility,  of  whom  the 
corps  of  gendarmerie  was  composed,  it  prevailed 
with  the  king. 

Three  months  elapsed,  and,  though  various 
plans  of  assault  had  been  tried,  no  progress  was 
made  ;  Leyva  being  determined  on  the  most  ob- 
stinate resistance,  animating  his  troops  by  his 
example,  and  sharing  in  all  the  fatigue  and  hard- 
ships he  called  on  them  to  endure.  Bourbon, 
meanwhile,  disposed  of  the  valuable  jewels  he  still 
possessed,  and,  being  further  assisted  with  money 
and  valuables  by  the  Duke  of  Savoy  —  who  had 
withdrawn  from  his  alliance  with  France  —  instead 
of  remaining  inactive  in  Lodi,  passed  into  Austria 
and  raised  an  army  of  12,000  lansquenets  and 
500  cavalry  on  his  own  account,  with  which  he 
rejoined  Pescara,  at  Lodi. 


HONOUR    TO    WHOM  HONOUR   IS  DUE      283 

These  lansquenets  —  German  infantry —  were 
headed  by  the  famous  Georges  Freundsberg,  a 
man  of  gigantic  stature,  great  strength,  and  ex- 
ceeding valour,  said  to  be  an  excellent  citizen, 
enthusiastic  patriot,  and  most  zealous  Lutheran. 
He  had  embraced  with  ardour  the  opportunity  of 
joining  the  war  in  Italy,  with  the  hope  of  it  lead- 
ing in  some  way  to  the  humiliation  of  the  papacy, 
of  which  he  was  the  inveterate  enemy.  His  great 
ambition  was  to  lay  his  own  sacrilegious  hands  on 
his  holiness.  For  the  purpose  of  strangling  him, 
he  had  a  strong  chain  made  of  pure  gold,  because, 
as  he  said,  "  Honour  to  every  one  to  whom  hon- 
our is  due."  But,  as  Freundsberg  had  a  son  shut 
up  in  the  besieged  city  of  Pavia,  and  four  hun- 
dred of  his  countrymen  were  there,  also,  the  hope 
of  rescuing  them  may  have  induced  him  to  join 
in  this  expedition  as  much  or  more  than  the  de- 
sired honour  of  strangling  the  Pope  with  a  gold 
chain. 

The  imperial  army,  now  reinforced,  marched  to 
the  relief  of  Pavia.  PYancis  had  weakened  his 
forces  by  sending  detachments  on  a  fruitless  expe- 
dition to  Naples  and  elsewhere.  The  troops  he 
had  with  him  were  wearied  and  jaded  by  nearly 
four  months  of  continual  alarms,  sorties  of  the 
enemy,  and  daily  skirmishes,  in  which  the  advan- 
tage was  almost  always  on  the  side  of  the  imperi- 
alists. To  take  Pavia,  Francis  must  now  fight  a 
battle.     A  council  of  war   was   held.     The  kine: 


284  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

was  advised  to  raise  the  siege,  avoid  the  battle, 
and  retire  with  his  weary  troops  to  Binosco. 

But  the  counsels  of  prudence,  as  Servan  re- 
marks,* were  not  always  the  most  agreeable  to  the 
royal  ears.  The  young  generals  were  enraged  at 
the  humiliating  suggestion  to  retreat,  while  Bon- 
nivet  urged  on  the  king  the  dishonour  cast  on  the 
patriotic  French  army,  the  shame  that  must  attach 
to  him  by  retiring  before  the  traitor  Bourbon. 

Clement  VII.  had  secretly  made  peace  with 
Francis,  and  now  wrote  to  him  offering  the  same 
advice  as  La  Tremouille  and  the  older  generals. 
But  the  king  had  had  the  folly  publicly  to  vaunt 
and  make  known  far  and  wide  that  "  he  would 
take  Pavia  or  perish  under  her  walls."  "Unfor- 
tunately," writes  Robertson  f  (one  would  almost 
fancy  in  irony),  "  Francis's  notions  of  honour 
were  delicate  to  an  excess  that  bordered  on  what 
was  romantic,  and,  rather  than  expose  himself  to 
the  slightest  imputations,  he  chose  to  forego  all 
the  advantages  that  were  the  certain  consequences 
of  a  retreat."  He,  in  fact,  accepted  battle,  and, 
greater  calamity  still,  Bonnivet  was  charged  with 
the  disposition  of  the  troops  and  general  arrange- 
ments of  the  army  on  that  famous,  but  fatal,  day. 

The  French  waited  in  their  entrenchments  the 
advance  of  the  imperial  army  (February  24,  1525). 

The  details  of  this  battle  will  not,  of  course,  be 

*"  Guerres  en  Italie" 
t  "  Life  of  Charles  V." 


A   DELICATE  SEArSE    OF  HONOUR  285 

looked  for  in  these  pages.  They  are  given  in  full 
in  Servan's  "  Guerres  des  Fmncais  en  Italic"  and 
in  Guicciardini's  "  Memoirs  ; "  also,  more  or  less 
minutely,  by  Martin  du  Bellay,  Fleuranges,  and 
other  military  writers,  and  historians  generally. 

The  actual  battle,  begun  early  in  the  day,  really 
lasted  but  an  hour  (Servan).  The  frightful  massa- 
cre that  followed  —  in  which  the  Spaniards  espe- 
cially, like  birds  of  prey  athirst  for  blood,  tortured, 
mangled,  with  shouts  of  savage  glee,  every  poor 
wretch  that  fell  into  their  hands  —  ceased  not 
while  a  glimpse  of  daylight  remained,  and  com- 
panions occupied  in  the  same  murderous  work 
could  be  distinguished  from  their  foes.  Not  less 
than  10,000  victims  were  thus  sacrificed  to  the 
"chevalier  king's"  "delicate  sense  of  honour." 

Among  them  were  the  flower  of  the  French 
nobility,  who,  while  endeavouring  to  protect  Fran- 
cis from  capture  or  from  death,  fell  fighting  by  his 
side.  Those  who  were  not  cut  down  by  the 
imperialist  troops  —  the  young  King  of  Navarre, 
Fleuranges,  Chabot  de  Brion,  Anne  de  Montmo- 
rency, and  others  —  were  taken  prisoners  with  the 
king?  It  is  said  that  Francis  had  his  horse  shot 
under  him,  and  that  he  then  fought  desperately  on 
foot.  Other  accounts  state  that  the  horse  stum- 
bled, threw  him  into  a  ditch,  and  rolled  over  him, 
and  that  two  soldiers  released  him  from  the  pres- 
sure of  the  horse,  but  quarrelled  over  the  sharing 
of  his  finery  —  jewelled  orders,  etc. 


286  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Pomperant,  the  companion  of  the  constable's 
flight  from  Chantelle,  coming  up,  recognised  the 
king,  and  suggested  his  surrender  to  Bourbon, — 
a  proposal  he  naturally  rejected.  The  viceroy 
Lannoy  was  then  sent  for.  To  him  Francis  gave 
up  his  sword  ;  the  viceroy  on  his  knee  receiving 
it,  and  returning  his  own  in  exchange  to  the  royal 
captive.  Francis  escaped  with  two  very  slight 
wounds  —  mere  scratches  on  the  forehead  and 
hand. 

Several  generals  of  distinction  fell  in  this  battle. 
The  unfortunate  Bonnivet  was  slain.  Bourbon 
would  seem  to  have  been  anxious  that  this  enemy 
should  fall  by  his  hand.  When,  however,  he  beheld 
his  dead  and  mangled  body,  he  was  affected,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Ah,  wretched  man  !  you  have  caused 
not  only  my  ruin,  but  the  ruin  of  France." 

But  no  sorrowful  feeling  came  over  him  when 
he  heard  that  Francis  was  a  prisoner.  A  smile 
then  suddenly  animated  his  usually  serious  coun- 
tenance, and,  with  a  sort  of  boyish  glee,  he  threw 
up  his  marshal's  baton  in  the  air  and  caught  it 
again,  but  without  uttering  a  word.  His  great 
satisfaction  with  what  had  occurred  was,  however, 
too  evident,  from  the  almost  involuntary  act  that 
had  given  expression  to  it,  to  need  words  to  make 
it  clearer. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

Tout  est  perdu  fors  Vkonneur.  —  Honour  but  Partly  Satisfied.  — 
Appeal  to  Charles's  Generosity. —  Meeting  of  Bourbon  and 
Francis.  —  Bribing  the  Guard.  —  Escape  of  Henri  d'  Albret. 

—  Alas !  What  a  Hypocrite  He  Was  !  —  Edifying  Re- 
marks. —  To  Arms  !     To  Arms  !  — Embarrassing  Requests. 

—  An  Alliance  with  Portugal. — The  Spirit  of  Moderation. 

—  A  Cry  of  Indignation.  —  The  Chevalier  King  Wavers.  — 
Counter- propositions.  —  A  Pledge  of  Reconciliation.  —  The 
Holy  Italian  League.  —  An  Ungenerous  Proceeding.  —  The 
Interesting  Captive.  —  Meeting  of  Charles  and  Francis.  — 
Marguerite's  Diplomacy.  —  An  Heroic  Sacrifice. — Bur- 
gundy Ceded;  Honour  Saved.  —  The  Armies  of  the  Em- 
pire.—  The  Monarch's  Return.  — Not  Long  in  Suspense. 

EADAME,  tout  est  perdu  fors  Vkon- 
neur." Sublimely  laconic  and  ener- 
getic announcement,  which  the  Jesuit 
historian,  le  pere  Daniel  (in  his  "  Histoirc  dc 
France"  published  towards  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century),  first  ventured  to  give  to  the 
world  as  the  sole  contents  of  the  epistle  of  Fran- 
cis I.  to  his  mother  after  the  defeat  of  Pavia. 
Certainly  he  names  his  authority  —  the  Spaniard 
Da  Vera,  author  of  a  life  of  Charles  V.  But  the 
Jesuit  father  was  not  led  astray  by  faith  in  Da 
Vera's  veracity.  He  knew  that  the  statement  was 
false,  but  accepted  it  on  the  same  principle  as  led 

287 


288  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

later  writers  to  follow  his  example  — "  Se  non  t 
vero  e  bene  trovato." 

It  was  striking  — "  Madame,  all  is  lost  save 
honour ! " 

One  can  imagine  the  "  chevalier  king,"  had  he 
hastily  but  written  these  words  —  almost  rivalling 
in  celebrity  the  famous  "  Vent,  vidi,  vici"  — hand- 
ing with  dignified  air  his  missive  to  an  attendant, 
who  folds  and  secures  it,  as  royal  missives  were 
then  wont  to  be  secured,  with  a  thin  gold  and 
crimson  cord  and  tassels  ;  then  placing  it  in  a 
small  pouch  together  with  the  king's  safe-conduct 
through  France,  delivers  it  to  the  well-armed 
messenger. 

To  have  added  even  the  words  which  in  the 
original  epistle  follow —  "  honneur,  et  la  vie,  qui  est 
sauve"  —  would  have  detracted  in  some  degree 
from  the  sublimity  of  the  message.  For  what 
was  life  compared  with  honour  ?  As  regarded  the 
lives  of  others,  evidently  nothing  at  all  to  Francis 
I.,  as  bore  witness  the  thousands  deliberately 
doomed  to  death  that  he  might  strive  to  fulfil  the 
vain  boast  that  he  would  take  Pavia.  He  did  not 
take  it,  and  knew  that  he  could  not.  Honour  was 
therefore  only  partly  satisfied  by  the  attempt  to 
do  so  ;  for,  failing  in  his  attempt,  he  had  vowed 
that  he  would  perish  under  the  walls  of  that  city. 

Many  of  the  young  nobility  who  had  encour- 
aged his  foolhardy  resolve  really  did  so  —  being 
smitten  with  deep  remorse  on  beholding  the  plain 


APPEAL    TO    CHARLES'S   GENEROSLTY     289 

on  which  the  gory  battle  was  fought,  covered  with 
the  limbs  and  mangled  headless  bodies  of  the  hap- 
less victims  of  their  criminal  folly.  Turning 
wildly  on  their  pursuers,  they  rushed  on  their 
pikes,  seeking  by  their  own  death  to  make  some 
atonement  for  the  horrible  tortures  and  loss  of 
life  they  had  been  the  cause  of  inflicting  on  others. 
Francis  I.  should  have  done  likewise. 

The  Spanish  officer,  Penalosa,  deputed  by  Lan- 
noy  to  convey  the  news  of  the  king's  defeat  to  the 
emperor,  was  also  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from 
Francis,  appealing  to  Charles's  generosity.  Being 
eager  to  learn  his  decision  respecting  him,  he  gave 
the  messenger  permission  to  cross  France,  and 
charged  him  with  his  letter  to  the  regent,  who  was 
at  Lyons.*  Very  humble  indeed,  for  a  king  of 
France,  was  the  appeal  to  the  emperor  ;  very  dif- 
fuse, very  humiliating  ;  deprecating  imprisonment, 

*  Francis's  letter  to  his  mother  was  as  follows  :  "  Madame,  — 
Pour  vous  avertir  comment  se  porte  le  ressort  de  mon  infortune, 
de  toutes  choses  ne  m'est  demoure  que  l'honneur  et  la  vie  qui 
est  sauve,  et  pour  ce  qu'en  notre  adversite  cette  nouvelle  vous 
fera  quelque  peu  de  reconfort,  j'ai  prie  qu'on  me  laissat  vous 
ecrire  ces  lettres,  ce  qu'on  m'a  agreablement  accorde.  Vous 
suppliant  de  ne  vouloir  prendre  l'extremite  de  vous-meme  en 
usant  de  votre  accoutumee  prudence,  car  j'ai  espoir  en  la  fin  que 
Dieu  ne  m'abandonnera  point ;  vous  recommandant  vos  petits 
enfants  et  les  miens ;  vous  suppliant  faire  donner  sur  passage 
pour  Taller  et  retour  en  Espagne  a  ce  porteur  qui  va  vers  l'em- 
pereur  pour  savoir  comme  il  faudra  que  je  sois  traite.  Et  sur  ce 
tres  humblement  me  recommende  a  votre  bonne  grace.  Fran- 
cois." —  "  Lettres  d'fitat  de  Granvelle." 


29O  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

and  urging  on  him  that,  instead  of  having  in  his 
hands  a  useless  captive,  he  might  render  a  king 
his  slave  forever  (rendre  un  rot  a  jamais  votre 
exclave). 

It  was  in  Lannoy's  camp  that  Bourbon  and 
Francis  met  once  more.  Naturally,  both  were 
compelled  to  impose  considerable  restraint  on  them- 
selves. The  former,  concealing  his  satisfaction  at 
his  great  revenge,  advanced  towards  his  sovereign 
and  respectfully  kissed  his  hand,  which  the  latter 
tolerated  only  by  an  effort,  repressing  his  rising 
indignation  at  the  approach  of  the  rebel  prince. 

Until  Charles's  good  pleasure  could  be  known 
Francis  was  removed  to  the  citadel  of  Pizzighitone, 
where  again  Bourbon  was  admitted  to  the  presence 
of  the  king,  who,  forgetting,  apparently,  that  he 
was  far  the  more  blameworthy  of  the  two,  thus 
addressed  him  :  "  Are  you  indeed  so  very  proud  of 
your  victory,  knowing  that  they  whom  you  have 
oppressed,  vanquished,  and  dispersed  are  your  near 
kinsmen  ? " 

"Sire,"  replied  Bourbon,  "have  I  not  been 
driven  to  this  ?  Otherwise,  how  willingly  would  I 
have  abstained  from  it !  " 

Francis  seems  to  have  derived  some  sort  of  satis- 
faction from  this  reply,  as  he  is  said  to  have  retired 
with  Bourbon  into  an  embrasure  and  conversed 
with  him  for  some  time,  apart  from  others  who 
were  present.  This  may  have  suggested  Lannoy's 
idea  that  Bourbon  and  Pescara  might  be  brought 


BRIBING    THE    GUARD  2gi 

to  connive  for  their  own  advantage  in  the  escape 
of  the  royal  captive.  For  Bourbon  and  Pescara 
both  considered  that  Francis  was  their  prisoner  far 
more  than  the  emperor's,  —  they  having  found  the 
funds  for  raising  the  reinforcements,  and  with  them 
fighting  the  battle  which,  without  such  aid,  would 
not  have  ended  in  victory. 

Two  prisoners  had  successfully  bribed  their 
guards  very  soon  after  their  capture.  One  was  the 
King  of  Navarre,  confined  in  the  fortress  of  Pavia, 
and  who  had  offered  100,000  crowns  for  his  ran- 
som.  Pescara  refused  it.  He  then  resorted  to 
other  means  for  obtaining  his  liberty.  Some 
anxiety  was  one  day  felt  at  his  remaining  unusually 
late  in  bed ;  but  there  was  an  unwillingness  to 
disturb  him.  Yet  when  evening  drew  on,  and  his 
majesty,  with  closed  curtains,  was  still  supposed, 
from  his  heavy  snoring,  to  be  sleeping,  it  was 
thought  right  to  ascertain  if  he  were  ill.  The  cap- 
tain of  the  guard  entered  and  respectfully  drew 
aside  the  drapery,  when,  instead  of  Henri  d'Aibret, 
there — still  pretending  to  sleep  —  lay  his  servant, 
who  had  had  permission  to  attend  on  the  king  and 
to  go  in  and  out  of  the  fortress.  Being  of  similar 
height  and  figure,  the  servant's  clothes  had  effectu- 
ally disguised  the  master,  who  had  passed  through 
the  corps  de  garde  unrecognised  —  favoured  by  the 
duskiness  of  a  winter  afternoon  and  the  gold-dust 
that  had  dimmed  the  eyes  of  the  guards.  Horses 
were  waiting    for    him   outside   the  fortress,   and 


292  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

when  the  discovery  was  made  he  was  well  on  his 
way  to  Piedmont.  One  naturally  asks,  what  be- 
came of  this  faithful  servant  ?  but  with  his  fate 
History  has  not  condescended  to  concern  herself. 

The  escape  of  a  prisoner  of  so  much  importance 
to  the  emperor  as  the  King  of  Navarre,  whose 
dominions  he  wanted,  might  well  occasion  Lannoy's 
anxious  fears  for  the  safety  of  the  still  more  impor- 
tant royal  personage  under  his  own  care.  For 
Charles  was  in  no  haste  to  reply  to  the  humble 
petition  of  the  captive  king,  but  had  privately 
written  to  Lannoy  —  who  was  greatly  in  his  confi- 
dence—  "As  you  have  taken  the  King  of  France 
for  me,  I  beg  of  you  to  keep  him  safely." 

Charles  was  more  elated  with  this  victory,  gained 
on  his  birthday,  than  was  expected.  From  its 
decisiveness  he  believed  himself  already  master  of 
Europe ;  that  Christendom  was  conquered,  if  not 
by,  yet  for,  him  ;  and  that  to  lay  low  the  power  of 
the  infidel  —  his  great  ambition  —  must  be  his  next 
exploit.  But  while  his  inward  satisfaction  was 
known  to  be  great,  it  was  not  in  his  character  to 
give  way  to  any  enthusiastic  demonstration  of  it. 
When  the  news  arrived  in  Madrid,  his  first  act 
was  to  retire  to  his  chapel  to  offer  up  thanks  to 
God  for  the  success  of  his  arms  —  after  the  impious 
custom  of  making  a  God  of  mercy  an  accomplice 
in  the  murderous  exploits  of  war.  Charles,  like 
an  excellent  Christian,  forbade  bonfires,  bell-ring- 
ing, and  all  public  rejoicings.     "  Such  exultation," 


ALAS!    WHAT  A    HYPOCRITE   HE    WAS!     293 

he  said,  "  was  indecent  then.  It  was  a  war  between 
Christians,  and  the  glory  of  the  victory  must  be 
ascribed  to  God  alone  ;  while  for  himself,  he  re- 
garded it  only  as  affording  him  an  opportunity  of 
proving  his  affection  towards  his  friends,  his  clem- 
ency towards  his  enemies,  and  of  restoring  peace 
to  Europe."  (Alas !  what  a  hypocrite  he  was!) 
"  But  when  he  had  triumphed  over  the  Grand  Turk, 
sounds  of  mirth  and  gladness  should  resound 
throughout  Christendom." 

Courtiers,  grandees  of  Spain,  the  whole  of  the 
corps  diplomatiqtic,  thronged  the  presence-chamber 
—  vying  with  each  other  in  the  eager  expression 
of  their  congratulations.  But  the  solemn  young 
monarch,  who  possessed  a  large  measure  of  what 
has  been  termed  a  "  royal  virtue,"  —  the  power  of 
greatly  dissembling,  —  gravely  rebuked  every  allu- 
sion to  the  captive  king  by  expressions  of  sympathy 
with  him,  of  pity  for  his  mischance,  and  by  many 
edifying  remarks  on  the  ups  and  clowns  of  life,  the 
instability  of  human  grandeur,  and  the  reverses  of 
fortune  from  which  the  greatest  of  monarchs  were 
not  exempt, — a  striking  example  of  which  was 
afforded  in  the  sad  misfortune  that  had  befallen  the 
King  of  France.* 

Some  noble  and  generous  act  of  clemency  to- 
wards his  prisoner  must  surely  have  been  looked 
for  by  those  who  listened  to  his  words,  or  were  the 

*  Robertson;  II.  Martin;  "  State  Papers." 


294  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

recipients  of  his  written  sentiments.  But  Charles 
had  no  intention  of  parting  with  his  prize  without 
an  adequate  return.  How  to  secure  the  greatest 
advantage  from  his  unexpected  good  fortune  was 
therefore  a  subject  for  mature  reflection. 

Great,  however,  was  the  consternation  in  France 
when  news  arrived  of  the  sanguinary  battle  of 
Pavia,  the  capture  of  the  king,  and  the  massacre 
of  the  army  and  the  flower  of  the  French  nobility. 
A  cry  of  distress  was  raised  throughout  the  land, 
the  people  vehemently  accusing  the  regent,  the 
chancellor,  and  the  king  himself,  with  having 
brought  this  great  calamity  and  trouble  on  the 
nation.  The  country  was  supposed  to  be  in  danger 
of  invasion,  and  the  general  cry  was  "  To  arms  !  " 
to  defend  the  territory.  But  the  whole  blame  of 
what  had  happened  was  unjustly  thrown  by  the 
regent  on  the  Due  d'Alengon,  who  had  reached 
Lyons  with  the  few  troops  of  the  small  detach- 
ment he  had  commanded,  and  with  whom  he  was 
accused  of  cowardly  flying  from  the  battle  -  field, 
instead  of  leading  them  on  to  be  massacred  with 
the  rest. 

Madame  Louise  at  this  crisis,  if  no  less  unscru- 
pulous than  usual,  yet  displayed  considerable 
ability  in  the  energetic  measures  she  adopted, 
and  great  sagacity  in  the  choice  of  men  to  carry 
them  out,  for  remedying  the  evils  she  had  brought 
on  her  son  and  on  France.  She  was  compelled 
to  lay  aside  much  of  her  haughty  manner,  and  to 


EMBARRASSING   REQUESTS  295 

submit  with  good  grace  to  the  reproaches  of  the 
Parliament,  who  in  council  decided  that  "not  a 
foot  of  French  territory  should  be  ceded  to  the 
emperor,  even  should  they  be  compelled  to  leave 
the  king  in  his  power ;  "  and  to  this  decision  she 
was  obliged  to  submit,  or  at  least  to  appear  to 
do  so. 

But  she  wrote  pressingly  to  Charles,  urging  him 
to  treat  his  prisoner  well,  and  made  overtures  to 
Henry  VIII. — through  Wolsey,  of  course  —  in 
very  flattering  terms,  which  pleased  both  king 
and  cardinal,  and  impelled  the  latter  to  find  some 
pretext  for  inducing  Henry  to  break  with  Charles 
and  resume  friendly  relations  with  France.  Pub- 
lic rejoicings  were  made  in  England  in  celebration 
of  Charles's  great  victory,  and  a  special  envoy  des- 
patched to  the  Spanish  court  to  congratulate  him. 
The  envoy,  however,  was  charged  to  inform  the 
emperor  that  Henry,  as  his  ally,  expected  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  fruits  of  the  victory.  He  requested, 
therefore,  that  Guyenne  might  be  invaded  with  a 
force  sufficient  to  give  him  possession  of  it,  in 
accordance  with  the  terms  of  the  treaty  of  Bruges, 
"  by  which  Charles  had  bound  himself  to  aid 
Henry  to  recover  his  kingdom  of  France." 

As  though  desirous  of  giving  an  amusing  turn 
to  his  demands,  he  required  that  the  "  usurper  of 
his  kingdom  "  might  be  transferred  to  him  for  safe 
keeping  in  England.  As  a  special  mark  of  his 
confidence,  he  also  announced  that   he  was   pre- 


296  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

pared  to  send  the  emperor's  fiancee,  the  Princess 
Mary,  either  to  Spain  or  the  Netherlands,  to  be 
educated  as  the  emperor  might  desire,  until  the 
time  fixed  for  their  marriage. 

These  were  extremely  embarrassing  requests, 
whose  object  was  doubtless  sufficiently  clear  to 
the  emperor,  as  the  hand  of  Wolsey  was  conspicu- 
ous in  them.  As  to  his  fiancie,  Charles  seems  to 
have  regarded  his  betrothal  to  Mary  as  no  more 
binding  on  him  than  his  numerous  other  betroth- 
als. Henry  was  probably  aware  that  the  emperor 
had  very  recently  sent  his  ambassador  to  Lisbon 
formally  to  ask  of  Dom  Joan  the  hand  of  his  sis- 
ter, the  Princess  Isabella  of  Portugal.  This  prin- 
cess possessed  an  immense  fortune,  which  to  the 
needy  monarch  of  so  many  kingdoms  —  restrained 
by  poverty  in  his  vast  ambition  to  rule  over  many 
more  —  must  have  been  an  attraction  greater  than 
Isabella's  reputed  beauty.  A  further  advantage 
was  that  a  marriage  with  her  involved  the  possi- 
bility of  enforcing  at  a  later  date  some  remote 
claim  on  the  crown  of  Portugal.  The  solemnisa- 
tion of  this  marriage  was  awaiting  the  settlement 
of  the  political  difficulty  with  France  and  the  re- 
lease of  the  king. 

After  a  delay  of  nearly  three  months,  during 
which  Charles  had  long  and  frequently  deliberated 
on  the  matter  with  his  advisers,  the  conditions  of 
Francis's  liberation  were  made  known  to  him  by 
the  Comte  de  Reux  in  the  emperor's  name.      But, 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  MODERATION  297 

as  though  further  to  humiliate  him,  Bourbon  and 
Lannoy  were  appointed  his  plenipotentiaries  to 
discuss  those  conditions  with  him. 

The  Bishop  of  Ozma  is  said  to  have  strongly- 
urged  Charles  to  adopt  the  more  generous  course 
of  restoring  Francis  to  liberty  without  any  condi- 
tions whatever,  trusting  solely  to  his  gratitude  for 
the  result.  But  Charles  had  no  generosity,  and 
no  faith,  probably,  in  his  rival's  gratitude.  He 
therefore  preferred  the  advice  of  the  Duke  of 
Alba,  which  (as  reported  by  Guicciardini)  was 
"  to  profit  to  the  utmost  by  the  calamity  that 
had  fallen  on  Francis,  that  the  French  monarchy 
might  be  irretrievably  ruined." 

The  document,  of  which  De  Reux  was  the 
bearer,  was  read  by  him  to  the  regent  in  council 
at  Lyons,  as  he  passed  through  that  city  on  his 
way  to  the  king.  It  began  by  asserting  that  in 
strict  legality  the  emperor  might  claim  the  whole 
of  the  kingdom  of  France ;  but  desiring  to  act  in 
a  spirit  of  moderation,  he  waived  that  claim  of 
ancient  date,  and  required :  1  st.  That  the  king 
should  ally  himself  with  him  against  the  Turks, 
and  furnish  20,000  men  for  the  expedition,  the 
emperor  being  the  head  of  it  ;  2dly.  The  be- 
trothal of  the  dauphin  to  the  Infanta  of  Spain, 
the  emperor's  neice ;  3dly.  Restitution  of  the 
duchy  of  Burgundy,  with  all  other  countries,  cities, 
and  lordships  possessed  by  Duke  Charles  of  Bur- 
gundy at  the  time  of  his  death  ;  4thly.    The  ces- 


298  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

sion  of  Provence  to  the  Due  de  Bourbon,  the 
emperor's  future  brother-in-law,  with  restitution 
of  all  his  ancestral  domains  whatsoever,  to  be, 
with  the  addition  of  Provence,  erected  into  a  king- 
dom exempt  from  all  subjection  to  the  crown  of 
France ;  5thly.  Restitution  to  the  King  of  Eng- 
land *  of  all  that  justly  belonged  to  him,  the  King 
of  France  charging  himself  with  the  indemnity 
promised  by  the  emperor  to  the  King  of  England ; 
6thly.  The  annulment  of  the  proceedings  against 
Bourbon  and  his  friends  ;  and,  finally,  the  renun- 
ciation of  all  the  pretensions  of  France  to  Naples, 
Milan,  or  any  other  territory  in  Italy. 

The  council  responded  to  the  emperor's  mon- 
strous pretensions  by  a  cry  of  indignation  ;  and 
Francis,  after  De  Reux  had  read  the  rigorous 
conditions  he  was  required  to  submit  to,  exclaimed 
in  the  vehemence  of  his  rage  that  he  would  rather 
spend  his  life  in  prison  than  purchase  liberty  on 
such  terms. 

Francis,  a  short  time  before,  had  written  a 
letter  to  the  same  effect  addressed  to  foreign 
courts,  the  French  nobility,  and  the  Parliaments 
of  the  kingdom.  This  letter  made  so  good  an 
impression  that,  together  with  the  emperor's  pro- 

*  Charles  did  not  then  know  that  Henry  proposed  to  with- 
draw from  his  alliance  and  enter  into  a  treaty  with  France. 
This  he  did  immediately  after  the  emperor  had  made  known 
his  claims  on  the  captive  king,  towards  whose  release  he  prom- 
ised his  aid  —  but  selling  his  good  offices  at  a  very  high  price. 


THE    CHEVALIER  KING    WAVERS  299 

posed  dismemberment  of  France  as  the  price  of 
his  captive's  liberty,  it  caused  a  general  revul- 
sion of  feeling  in  the  king's  favour.  Forgetting 
the  invectives  so  recently  lavished  both  on  Fran- 
cis and  the  regent,  and  the  charges  brought  against 
him  of  ruining  the  nation  for  the  carrying  on  of  his 
fruitless  wars,  and  his  no  less  expensive  amours, 
the  one  thought  now  seemed  to  be,  what  was  to  be 
done  to  obtain  this  injured  monarch's  release.  "  If 
it  were  a  question  of  money,  his  ransom  to  any 
amount  should  instantly  be  forthcoming,  and  to 
protect  the  frontiers  and  repel  invaders  all  France 
was  ready  to  arm." 

But  the  king  soon  wavered  in  his  chivalric 
resolve  to  live  and  die  in  captivity.  His  longing 
to  return  to  his  accustomed  libertine  life  prompted 
him,  after  the  first  paroxysm  of  rage  had  subsided, 
to  draw  up  a  series  of  counter-propositions  in  reply 
to  the  emperor's  conditions.  The  concessions  he 
professed  himself  ready  to  make  were  even  more 
humiliating  than  those  required  of  him.  Burgundy 
was  the  great  difficulty ;  rather  because  the  Bur- 
gundians  were  prepared  to  resist  being  handed 
over  to  Charles  as  subjects  of  Spain,  than  from 
any  unwillingness  on  the  part  of  Francis  to  give 
them  up,  if  the  sacrifice  would  open  his  prison 
doors. 

He  proposed,  then,  that  Eleanor,  the  Dowager- 
Queen  of  Spain,  should  be  given  in  marriage  to 
him  instead  of  to  Bourbon,  and  Burgundy  be  con- 


300  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

sidered  her  dowry  ;  the  emperor's  second  son  suc- 
ceeding to  the  duchy  should  Eleanor  leave  no  male 
issue.  He  renounced  all  his  claims  on  Italy,  Milan 
excepted,  reserving  those  only  for  the  benefit  of 
Eleanor's  possible  heirs.  He  abandoned  the  su- 
zerainty of  Artois  and  Flanders,  and  consented  to 
buy  back  Picardy. 

Very  recently  he  had  contrived  secretly  to 
despatch  a  messenger  with  his  seal  and  a  letter 
to  Solyman  II.,  asking  aid  to  obtain  his  release. 
Yet  he  promised  to  furnish,  as  required  by  the 
emperor,  20,000  men  to  attack  him.  Charles  de 
Bourbon  was  to  be  reinstated ;  and  to  compensate 
him  for  the  loss  of  Eleanor,  was  to  be  offered  the 
hand  of  a  French  princess  —  Madame  Renee,  prob- 
ably. As  if  this  was  not  enough,  Francis  placed 
the  whole  of  the  fleet  and  army  of  France  at  the 
emperor's  disposition,  to  assist  in  any  enterprise 
in  which  he  might  desire  their  co-operation ;  also, 
to  join  him  himself,  or  send  him  one  of  his  sons 
(Henri  Martin). 

An  ambassador  from  Madame  Louise  and  the 
council  of  regency  arrived  in  Spain  at  about  the 
same  time  as  the  messenger  from  Pizzighitone. 
He,  too,  was  the  bearer  of  counter  -  propositions  ; 
but  far  less  unreserved  than  those  of  the  king. 
The  regent,  however,  had,  with  extreme  want  of 
delicacy,  and,  for  a  woman  of  her  acknowledged 
diplomatic  ability,  want  of  tact,  offered  the  em- 
peror, as  a  pledge  of  reconciliation,  the  hand  of 


THE  HOLY  ITALIAN  LEAGUE  301 

her  daughter  Marguerite,  the  recently  widowed 
Duchesse  d'Alencon. 

But  two  or  three  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the 
death  of  her  husband,  bowed  down  by  excessive 
grief  and  shame  at  the  overwhelming  reproaches 
heaped  on  him  by  his  wife  and  mother-in-law. 
The  latter  accused  him  of  not  preventing  the 
capture  of  "her  Caesar,  her  lord,  her  love;"  the 
former  drove  him  from  her  presence  with  horror, 
for  not  releasing  the  adored  brother  from  his 
captors,  or  at  least  attempting  it,  though  in  the 
effort  he  had  sacrificed  his  own  worthless  life. 
Yet  it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  able  to  either 
save  or  assist  this  precious  son  and  adored  brother. 
Poor  Alengon  was  also  stigmatised  by  the  sobriquet 
of  the  "  deserter  of  Pavia,"  which  he  took  so 
much  to  heart  that  he  survived  his  return  to 
France  scarcely  two  months.  By  Alenqon's  death, 
Charles  de  Bourbon  became  first  prince  of  the 
blood. 

It  was  the  custom  of  Charles  V.  to  take  much 
time  to  reflect  on  and  mature  his  projects  before 
arriving  at  a  decision ;  sometimes,  indeed,  he 
reflected  so  long  that  the  opportunity  of  executing 
them  had  passed  away.  It  was  fortunate  for 
France  that  it  was  so  ;  for  while  he  remained 
inactive  in  Spain,  instead  of  following  up  the 
victory  of  Pavia  by  an  immediate  invasion  of 
France,  as  Bourbon  and  Pescara  were  expecting, 
the    regent   had   had    time    secretly    to    join    the 


302  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

league  against  him  with  the  Pope,  the  Venetian 
and  other  Italian  states,  and  Henry  of  England. 

Francis,  meanwhile,  had  been  removed  to  Spain 
at  his  own  request ;  the  poverty  of  the  emperor's 
resources  being  evident  in  the  fact  of  Francis 
being  obliged  to  send  for  his  own  galleys  to  con- 
vey him  to  Barcelona,  and  to  furnish  vessels  for  the 
Spanish  troops  that  escorted  him  as  a  prisoner. 

He  was  lodged  in  the  fortress  of  Xativa  under 
the  strictest  surveillance.  Thence  he  sent  Mont- 
morency, who  had  obtained  his  liberty  on  pay- 
ment of  a  heavy  ransom,  to  express  his  great 
desire  to  confer  with  the  emperor,  not  only 
respecting  terms  of  peace  and  his  own  liberation, 
but  with  reference  to  the  establishing  and  con- 
firming of  Italy  in  subservience  to  him,  before 
the  Italian  potentates  had  time  to  unite  in 
opposing  it. 

By  this  sacrifice  of  the  Italian  states,  with 
whom  his  mother  had  just  entered  into  an  alliance 
on  his  behalf,  Francis  hoped  to  recover  his  liberty. 
This  was  the  2d  of  July.  By  Charles's  order, 
the  king  was  transferred  to  the  Alcazar  of  Madrid, 
still  closely  guarded  by  General  Alarcon.  The  em- 
peror was  at  Toledo,  where  he  continued  to  reside 
for  some  weeks  after  pretending  that  his  presence 
was  necessary  at  the  Cortes  assembled  there. 

It  was  certainly  most  ungenerous,  if  not  abso- 
lutely cruel,  to  calculate,  as  the  emperor  evidently 
did,  on  ultimately  subduing  his  captive  and  wrest- 


THE   INTERESTING    CAPTIVE  303 

ing  an  unqualified  assent  to  his  preposterous  con- 
ditions by  the  effect  produced  on  his  mind  by 
prolonged  incarceration  in  a  gloomy  fortress,  and 
his  weariness  and  impatience  of  confinement.  On 
the  other  hand,  Francis  did  not  bear  captivity  in 
a  manly  and  chivalric  spirit.  This  hero  of  ro- 
mance, cast  down  and  in  trouble,  then  appeared 
what  he  really  was,  as  M.  Michelet  remarks,  "a 
Poitevin  gentleman  of  very  poor  stuff." 

The  libertine  is  become  a  devotee  from  despair. 
He  begins  to  fast ;  abstains  from  meat,  of  which 
he  informs  his  mother  and  sister,  who  are  moved 
beyond  measure.  His  sister  forbids  him  to  fast, 
and  sends  him  the  Epistles  of  Saint  Paul  ("the 
daily  bread  of  the  reformers  ")  as  spiritual  food, 
urging  him  not  to  refuse  it.  "  Some  recluse,"  she 
says,  "  has  confided  to  a  holy  man  that  if  the 
king  will  read  Saint  Paul  he  shall  find  deliver- 
ance." But  his  languishing  spirit  seeks  consola- 
tion in  putting  his  misfortunes  and  amours  into 
feeble  rhymes,  worthy  of  Saint  Gclais  or  other  of 
the  many  poetasters  of  the  day.* 

In  the  high-flown  language  of  a  model  chevalier 
he  addresses  sonnets  and  rondeaux  to  the  un- 
known mistress  of  his  imagination  —  the  lady  of 
his  heart,  par  excellence.  His  occupations  excite 
the  curiosity  of  the  ladies  of  Madrid,  and  when 
they  learn  that  he  is  chiefly  employed  in  fasting, 

*  Some  pleasing  poetry  has  been  attributed  to  Francis  I., 
but  it  is  doubtful  that  he  was  its  author. 


304  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

praying  for  restoration  to  the  society  of  lovely 
woman,  and  pouring  out  his  sighing  soul  in  verse, 
their  sympathy  is  at  once  awakened.  Fancy  sur- 
rounds him  with  a  halo  of  romance,  and  fair 
senoras  on  their  way  to  matins,  as  they  cast  a 
pitying  glance  towards  the  frowning  tower  of  the 
Alcazar,  breathe  an  earnest  prayer  for  the  speedy 
release  of  the  captive  king. 

The  great  interest  the  Spanish  ladies  took  in 
the  fate  of  the  king  must  have  been,  for  awhile, 
no  slight  consolation  to  him.*  But  poetry  and 
the  sympathy  of  the  fair  sex  could  not  sustain  his 
languishing  spirit  for  ever.  Melancholy  began  to 
mark  him  for  her  own,  and  Charles  was  informed 
by  the  physicians  he  had  sent  to  attend  his  cap- 
tive, that  it  was  he,  not  they,  who  could  restore 
the  failing  health  of  their  patient. 

Alarmed  by  the  hint  that  he  might  possibly  lose 
the  ransom  he  exacted  by  over -persistence  in 
wearing  out  his  prisoner,  the  emperor  hastened  to 
Madrid.  Francis  had  been  seven  months  in  cap- 
tivity when  Charles,  for  the  first  time,  visited  him. 

*  Francis  is  said  to  have  been  much  gratified,  when  taken 
prisoner  at  Pavia,  at  the  eagerness  displayed  by  the  soldiers  to 
share  in  what  was  taken  from  him,  rather  to  preserve  as  a  relic 
than  with  reference  to  its  intrinsic  value.  His  vanity,  too,  was 
flattered  by  their  admiration  of  his  swordsmanship.  His  armour 
was  sent  to  the  emperor,  who  gave  it  to  his  brother  —  reserving 
only  the  sword  for  himself.  Nearly  three  centuries  later,  both 
sword  and  armour  were  taken  by  Napoleon  from  Madrid  and 
Vienna  and  transferred  to  the  Musee  of  Paris. 


MARGUERITE'S  DIPLOMACY  305 

He  addressed  him  with  an  appearance  of  great 
cordiality,  was  profuse  in  expressions  of  regard 
and  good -will,  promised  that  negotiations  should 
be  speedily  resumed,  and,  as  he  hoped,  soon  satis- 
factorily brought  to  a  close.  A  safe-conduct  was 
also  granted  to  his  sister,  sent  by  the  regent  to 
console  her  brother. 

She  was  provided,  also,  with  full  powers  to  ne- 
gotiate. Madame  Louise — whose  offer  of  her 
daughter  to  the  emperor  had  not  even  been 
noticed  by  him  —  fancied  it  would  be  a  means  of 
giving  Marguerite  the  opportunity  of  exercising 
her  great  powers  of  fascination  on  Charles,  and 
thus  facilitate  Francis's  restoration  to  liberty. 

The  Spanish  nobles  seem  to  have  been  greatly 
charmed  by  Marguerite's  engaging  manners,  her 
liveliness,  her  witty  conversation,  and  the  attach- 
ment she  displayed  towards  her  brother.  They 
paid  assiduous  court  to  her,  but  Charles,  while 
paying  her  marked  respect,  was  not  induced  by 
her  wiles  to  abate  aught  of  his  demands,  or  to 
admit  her  claim  to  negotiate.  With  reference  to 
her  brother's  proposal  to  marry  his  sister  Eleanor, 
he  told  her  she  was  promised  already  to  Due 
Charles  de  Bourbon,  a  promise  from  which,  except 
by  consent  of  that  prince,  he  could  not  free  him- 
self. His  other  conditions  he  had  referred  to  his 
ministers  for  discussion. 

Marguerite  was  made  the  agent,  probably  an 
unwilling    one,   of    her    mother's  treachery.      She 


306  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

revealed  to  Charles  the  secret  of  the  Holy  League 
(the  Pope  being  at  the  head  of  it)  that  was  form- 
ing against  him  for  the  emancipation  of  Italy 
from  the  yoke  of  the  empire.  But,  from  another 
quarter,  it  had  already  been  made  known  to  him. 
The  object  of  the  regent,  consequently,  was  not 
furthered  by  her  baseness,  and  Charles  being 
freed  from  all  alarm  on  the  score  of  the  king's 
health,  was  as  little  disposed  as  before  to  yield  on 
the  great  question  at  issue — the  cession  of 
Burgundy. 

Francis,  therefore,  proposed  to  thwart  the  views 
of  his  enemy  by  a  heroic  sacrifice  — his  abdication 
in  favour  of  the  dauphin,  with  his  mother  or  sister 
as  regent.  He,  however,  reserved  to  himself  the 
right  of  resuming  the  crown  he  professed  to 
resign,  should  he  recover  his  liberty.  But,  as  had 
often  happened  before,  having  formed  a  great 
resolution,  Francis  shrank  from  carrying  it  out. 
"It  remained,  therefore,  a  mere  velleity"  (H. 
Martin).  His  sister,  who,  according  to  his  first 
impulse,  should  have  been  the  bearer  of  this  im- 
portant document  to  Paris,  was  suddenly  com- 
pelled to  hasten  her  departure.  Being  suspected, 
during  her  three  months'  residence  in  Madrid,  of 
political  intrigue  and  of  planning  the  king's  escape, 
an  order,  of  which  she  was  privately  informed, 
was  issued  for  her  arrest  the  moment  her  safe- 
conduct  should  expire.  The  Marechal  de  Mont- 
morency was  then  leaving  Spain,  and,  accompanied 


BURGUNDY  CEDED;   HONOUR  SAVED     307 

by  him,  Marguerite  made  the  journey  with  a 
speed  most  unusual  in  those  days,  reaching  the 
French  frontier  only  an  hour  or  two  before  the 
expiration  of  her  pass. 

Burgundy  seemed  then  on  the  point  of  being 
given  up  to  the  emperor  by  command  of  the 
regent,  she  and  Francis  embarrassing  each  other 
by  independently  issuing  orders  and  counter- 
orders  concerning  it.  But,  worn  out  at  last,  by 
this  never  -  ending  contention,  Francis  yields. 
Summoning  his  mother's  ambassadors  to  his 
presence,  he  has  recourse  to  the  doubtful  expe- 
dient of  swearing  to  them,  in  order  to  save  his 
honour,  that  what  he  is  about  to  promise  he  will 
never  perform ;  that  his  renunciation  of  Bur- 
gundy shall  be  considered  null  and  of  no  effect, 
being  a  promise  made  under  constraint. 

The  French  plenipotentiaries  then,  by  his  direc- 
tion, announce  to  the  emperor's  ministers  that  the 
king  cedes  the  coveted  duchy  to  their  imperial 
master  in  full  sovereignty.  Charles  believes  he 
has  triumphed,  and  this  second  victory  he  has  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  is  entirely  his  own. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  treaty  should  be  rati- 
fied by  the  regent  at  the  first  frontier  town,  the 
hostages  for  its  fulfilment  to  be  either  twelve 
French  gentlemen  or  the  king's  two  eldest  sons, 
Francis  undertaking  to  return  to  his  prison  if 
within  four  months  the  ratifications  with  the 
states  of  Burgundy  were  not  exchanged,  and  the 


308  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

duchy  finally  transferred  to  the  great-grandson  of 
Charles  the  Bold. 

The  king  was  to  marry  Eleanor,  she  preferring 
the  King  of  France  with  diminished  territories  to 
the  Due  de  Bourbon  with  no  territory  at  all.  To 
compensate  the  duke  for  the  loss  of  the  lady's 
hand,  his  ancestral  possessions,  and  the  kingdom 
promised  him  (for  Charles,  having  obtained  Bur- 
gundy, no  longer  urged  Bourbon's  claims),  he  was 
to  have  the  probable  investiture  of  the  duchy  of 
Milan,  ceded  by  Francis,  and — vice  Pescara,  de- 
ceased—  the  post  of  lieutenant-general  of  the 
armies  of  the  empire.  These  armies  consisted  of 
as  many  of  the  rabble  of  all  countries  as  he  might 
be  able  to  collect  together  and  find  funds  to  support. 

As  though  he  scarcely  trusted  Francis  —  and  his 
sagacity  must  have  been  greatly  at  fault  to  trust 
him  —  or  was  unwilling  to  part  with  his  captive, 
the  emperor  detained  him  nearly  two  months  after 
the  signing  of  the  treaty.  But  during  that  time 
they  frequently  appeared  in  public  together,  ap- 
parently on  the  most  amicable  terms.  Sometimes 
they  were  accompanied  by  the  bride-elect,  but  the 
marriage  was  deferred  until  the  bond  was  fulfilled. 

At  last,  on  the  18th  of  March,  1526  —  the 
emperor  being  about  to  set  out  for  Seville  to  marry 
the  Princess  Isabella —  Lannoy  conducted  the  king 
to  Fontarabia.  A  small  vessel  was  moored  in  the 
middle  of  the  river  Bidassoa,  the  limit  of  the 
two  kingdoms,  where  Marshal  Lautrec  exchanged 


THE   MONARCH'S  RETURN  309 

the  dauphin  and  his  brother  Henry  —  the  twelve 
gentlemen  not  being  forthcoming  —  for  the  King 
of  France.  The  king  kissed  and  blessed  his  poor 
weeping  children,  who  were  conveyed  to  the 
Spanish  shore,  while  their  heroic  father,  with 
Lautrec,  made  for  the  opposite  one.  There  an 
Arab  horse  awaited  him,  which  he  quickly  mounted, 
exclaiming  with  joyful  voice  as  he  raised  his  hat, 
as  if  again  to  salute  la  belle  France,  "  I  am  once 
again  king  !  "  (Me  void  roi  derechef!  "  )  He  then 
galloped  off  at  full  speed  to  St.  Jean  de  Luz,  and 
thence  to  Bayonne  without  drawing  rein. 

Madame  la  Regente,  with  a  train  of  young 
beauties  in  her  suite,  the  Duchess  d'Alencon,  the 
fair  Comtesse  de  Chateaubriand,  and  the  rest  of 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  Court,  awaited  at 
Bayonne  their  monarch's  return. 

Btrt  following  quickly  on  his  arrival  appeared 
the  officer  deputed  by  Lannoy  to  bear  back  the 
ratification  of  the  Treaty  of  Madrid,  which,  as 
stipulated,  was  to  take  place  on  the  king's  arrival 
in  the  first  frontier  town  he  stopped  at.  Francis, 
however,  informed  him  that  "  as  he  could  not 
alienate  his  subjects  without  their  consent,  he  must 
ascertain  what  were  the  wishes  of  the  Burgundians 
before  he  could  give  effect  to  the  cession  of  their 
duchy." 

At  all  events,  the  emperor  was  not  kept  long  in 
suspense  as  to  the  value  of  the  concessions  he  had 
wrung  from  the  captive  king. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

His  Native  Air  Prescribed. —  More  Betrothals  Proposed. — In- 
creased Dissipation.  —  Mademoiselle  d'Heilly.  —  A  Numer- 
ous Family. — A  Wayward  Girl  of  Many  Moods. —  The 
Jewels  Returned.- — The  Countess's  Revenge.  —  The  New 
Maitresse-en-titre. — The  Peasants'  War. —  A  Cure  for  Lu- 
theranism.  —  A  Gallican  Holy  Office. —  The  Bishop  and  His 
Disciple.  —  The  Hermit  of  Vitry.  —  Louis  de  Berquin. — 
Marriage  of  Marguerite.  —  A  Restraint  on  Court  Gaiety. 

RANCIS  was  not  at  all  anxious  to  face 
his  good  people  of  Paris  after  his  long- 
enforced  absence  from  France ;  and 
much  disappointment  was  caused  by  it.  The  king 
and  his  court  having  made  a  short  sojourn  at  Bor- 
deaux, where  jousts  and  tournaments  celebrated 
his  return,  repaired  to  Cognac  ;  the  pretext  being 
that,  after  thirteen  months  of  rigourous  confine- 
ment in  a  foreign  prison,  his  native  air  (Cognac 
was  his  birthplace)  was  prescribed  by  his  physician 
as  necessary  for  the  restoration  of  his  health. 

He,  however,  took  no  sort  of  interest  in  the 
affairs  of  his  kingdom,  which  seemed  scarcely  at 
all  to  concern  him  ;  and  having  thanked  the  Sultan 
Solyman  —  whose  reply  to  the  king's  appeal  arrived 
only  after  his  release — for  his  friendly  expression 
310 


MORE   BETROTHALS  PROPOSED  3  I  I 

of  sympathy  with  him,  and  generous  offer  of  the 
aid  of  his  powerful  armies  and  vast  treasures,  he 
relapsed  into  his  former  licentious  course  of  life. 

Under  the  idea  that  the  marriage  of  Francis 
with  the  emperor's  sister  might  be  considered  as 
broken  off,  another  princess  was  offered  to  him, 
as  seal  and  pledge  of  the  eternity  of  a  recon- 
ciliation with  England.  This  was  the  Princess 
Mary,  the  former  fiancee  of  the  dauphin  and  the 
once-destined  bride  of  Charles  V.  Once  again  her 
hand  was  free  ;  but  Francis  evinced  no  inclination 
to  take  this  little  girl  of  ten  or  eleven  years  for 
his  wife.  He  pleaded  that  he  might  yet  be  called 
on  to  fulfil  his  engagement  to  Eleanor. 

It  was  then  suggested  that  Mary  should  be 
betrothed  to  Francis's  second  son,  Henri,  the 
godson  of  Henry  VIII.  But  the  proposal  of  a 
matrimonial  alliance  with  France  was  so  unpop- 
ular with  the  English  people,  that  it  was  thought 
expedient  to  leave  the  question  open  for  future 
consideration  —  the  more  so  as  the  young  prince 
whose  betrothal  was  proposed  was  then  a  prisoner 
in  Spain.  Francis  was,  however,  profuse  of  thanks 
to  Henry  VIII.  for  the  part  he  had  taken  in 
securing  his  release,  which  seems  to  have  amounted 
to  nothing  more  than  that,  being  jealous  of  the 
emperor's  increasing  power  in  Europe,  he  joined 
the  league  against  him.  For  this  service  he  was 
paid  —  or  perhaps,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
period,  he  received  only  the  promise  of  payment  — 


312  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

a  sum  so  large  that  "  in  itself  it  amounted  to  a 
right  royal  ransom." 

The  king's  increased  dissipation  was  but  too 
clearly  apparent  even  to  his  courtiers,  his  minis- 
ters, his  generals,  and  was  but  too  well  turned  to 
account  by  his  mercenary  and  avaricious  flatterers, 
whose  interest  it  was  that  the  country  should  be 
ill-governed  —  and  the  monarch  weak,  proud,  des- 
potic, a  slave  to  his  passions  —  and  the  people 
wretched.  Of  such  men  was  the  chancellor,  Duprat, 
who,  together  with  the  regent  —  no  longer  bearing 
the  title,  yet  relinquishing  none  of  the  authority 
of  the  office  —  ruled  France  despotically. 

While  Francis  was  absent,  his  mother  very  con- 
siderately had  trained  a  new  mistress  for  him. 
She  was  resolved  on  destroying  the  influence 
which  the  Comtesse  de  Chateaubriand  had  so  long 
retained  over  him,  and  which  so  often  had  thwarted 
her  own  projects;  but  now,  as  she  hoped,  was  by 
absence  greatly  weakened.  The  king  had  warmly 
greeted  the  fair  countess  ;  and  gazing  on  her  with 
admiration,  declared  that  "  no  such  lovely  lady 
had  met  his  gaze  since  he  had  parted  from  her." 

The  wily  Louise,  on  hearing  this  compliment, 
turned  smilingly  towards  a  young  lady  who,  seated 
a  little  behind  her,  seemed  rather  to  avoid  than 
court  observation,  and  bade  her  come  nearer.  It 
was  the  custom  for  the  young  ladies-in-waiting  of 
Madame  Louise  to  seat  themselves  around  her  on 
cushions  or  carpets  spread  on  the  floor  for  their 


MADEMOISELLE  D1  HE ILLY  313 

use.  A  tall,  slight,  elegant  girl,  of  fair,  roseate 
complexion,  with  deep  blue  eyes,  and  bright  auburn 
hair,  rose  from  her  cushion,  and  seated  herself,  as 
bidden,  beside  the  king's  mother.  Her  demeanour 
was  sedate  and  modest.  She  seemed  not  to  notice, 
and  was  therefore  in  no  way  embarrassed  by  the 
bold,  libertine  gaze  the  king  fixed  on  her ;  which 
indeed  was  only  usual  with  him  whenever  any 
fresh,  youthful  face  met  his  view. 

But  the  young  lady's  beauty  appeared  to  make 
no  deep  impression  on  him.  He  turned  again  to 
the  countess  and  resumed  his  conversation  with 
her.  The  countenance  of  Anne  de  Pisseleu,  called 
Mademoiselle  d'Heilly,  was  not  strictly  beautiful, 
and  when  in  repose  was  noticeable  only  for  its 
expression  of  calmness  and  placidity,  of  which 
there  was  little  in  her  character.  She  had  been 
unusually  well  educated  ;  though  her  father,  Guil- 
laume  de  Pisseleu,  Seigneur  d'Heilly,  having  been 
three  times  married,  is  said  to  have  had  a  family 
of  thirty  children  to  provide  for  —  Anne  being  a 
daughter  of  the  second  wife. 

Demure  as  she  looked,  Mademoiselle  d'Heilly 
was  full  of  life  and  spirits.  The  vivacity  of  her 
conversation  and  her  singular  power  of  lively  rep- 
artee were  wonderful  in  one  so  young  —  for  she 
was  but  eighteen.  When  it  was  her  mood  to  be 
animated,  she  was  beautiful  also  ;  her  airs  and 
graces,  her  wiles  and  caprices,  the  changing  ex- 
pression of   her  intelligent   countenance,  even   her 


3H  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

violent  gusts  of  temper  which  often  subsided  into 
mirth  and  laughter,  became  her  exceedingly.  Her 
form  was  perfectly  symmetrical,  and  the  grace- 
fulness of  her  movements  added  to  her  other 
attractions. 

This  fair  young  damsel,  who  was  to  enslave  the 
king  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  had  been  recom- 
mended by  a  friend  to  the  notice  of  Madame 
Louise.  She  was  portionless,  she  had  twenty-nine 
brothers  and  sisters  (surely  all  were  not  living), 
but  she  was  wonderfully  talented,  read  Latin  and 
Greek,  and  possessed  all  the  accomplishments  of 
the  time.  Madame  Louise  was  moved  to  pity,  and 
received  Mademoiselle  d'Heilly  into  her  band  of 
"maids  of  honour."  Soon  she  detected  qualities 
in  her  protegee  that  made  her  a  suitable  agent  in 
the  carrying  out  of  the  project  she  had  long  had 
so  much  at  heart.  This  wayward  girl  of  many 
moods  had  fascinations  which  she  believed  would 
outweigh  those  of  the  countess  ;  besides,  she  was 
ten  years  younger. 

There  appear  to  have  been  no  scruples  on  the 
part  of  Anne  de  Pisseleu  to  adopt  the  part  her 
benefactress  assigned  her.  It  was,  as  all  know, 
successful  ;  though  there  was  nothing  surprising 
in  Francis  falling  into  the  snare.  He  was,  doubt- 
less, greatly  surprised,  when  he  saw  the  quiet, 
modest  girl,  whose  tameness  a  few  hours  before 
had  deprived  her  of  the  honour  of  a  second  glance 
from  him,  surrounded  by  a  circle  (a  sadly  narrowed 


A    WAYWARD    GIRL    OF  MANY  MOODS     315 

one  since  Pavia)  of  youthful  courtiers,  who  hung 
on  her  words,  laughed  at  her  freaks,  courted  her 
smiles,  and  —  when  she  rather  confounded  them 
with  the  extent  of  her  learning,  which,  with  a  sort 
of  gay  triumph  she  was  fond  of  displaying  — 
pronounced  her  "the  most  charming  and  beautiful 
of  learned  ladies,  and  the  most  learned  of  the 
beautiful." 

The  susceptible  Francis  listened  with  admiring 
wonder.  His  inflammable  heart  at  once  took  fire, 
and  was  laid  at  this  fascinating  damsel's  feet. 
But,  further  surprise,  she  received  the  monarch's 
advances  with  a  well-assumed  air  of  saucy  imperi- 
ousness  that  might  have  daunted  a  lover  who  had 
not  the  advantage  of  being  a  king,  and  have  even 
sent  back  Francis  a  suppliant  for  pardon  to  the 
neglected  and  saddened  countess.  But  Francoise 
de  Foix  is  now  aware  that  her  ten  years'  reign  is 
ended.  For  Louise  of  Savoy,  herself  —  an  act 
worthy  of  her  —  has  with  her  own  hand  presented 
to  her  son  the  well-trained  mistress  she  has  des- 
tined to  be  the  countess's  successor. 

Many  scenes  of  storm  and  sunshine,  of  hope 
and  despair,  are  said  to  have  occurred  between  the 
king  and  Madame  de  Chateaubriand  ;  for  she  did 
not  readily  yield  to  the  loss  of  her  influence  over 
him,  but  added  to  the  triumph  of  her  rival  and  her 
enemy  by  fruitless  efforts  to  regain  it.  When, 
however,  the  approaching  marriage  of  Mademoi- 
selle d'Heilly   with   the   Due   d'Ftampes    was   an- 


3  16  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

nounced,  she  perceived  that  the  time  had  arrived 
to  withdraw  from  the  court. 

She  was  required  to  return  the  costly  jewels 
which  the  king  had  given  her,  that  they  might 
serve  as  a  marriage  present  for  the  adornment 
of  the  bride  of  the  new  noble  duke.  *  As  so 
much  munificence  and  lavish  expenditure  on  his 
favourites  have  been  ascribed  to  Francis  I.,  it 
is  difficult  to  believe  that  so  paltry  a  demand 
emanated  from  him,  unless  urged  on  him  by  his 
mother.  However,  the  countess  is  said  to  have 
been  so  indignant  that  she  revenged  herself  by 
having  the  stones  removed  from  their  setting  and 
the  gold  melted  clown  as  an  ingot,  in  which  state 
she  gave  back  those  mementoes  of  the  king's  re- 
gard and  affection. 

Madame   de    Chateaubriand    then    returned    to 

*  A  promise  to  reinstate  him  in  his  family  possessions  had 
induced  Jean  de  Brosse,  Comte  de  Penthievre,  to  consent  to 
marry  the  king's  mistress.  On  his  mother's  side  he  was  a  grand- 
son of  Philippe  de  Comines.  His  father  had  left  France  with 
the  constable,  Charles  de  Bourbon,  and  was  killed  at  Pavia.  He 
was  one  of  the  nineteen  gentlemen  whom  the  Parliament  con- 
demned to  death  after  their  escape.  All  his  property  was  confis- 
cated. To  the  son's  application  for  the  restitution  of  a  part,  if 
not  the  whole  of  it,  this  marriage  was  proposed  to  him  as  a  con- 
dition for  acceding  to  his  prayer.  The  king  confirmed  his  title 
of  Comte  de  Penthievre,  gave  him  the  collar  of  the  Order  of 
Saint  Michel,  made  him  Governor  of  Brittany,  and  created  him 
Due  d'fitampes  to  serve  as  a  new  title  for  his  mistress.  Of 
course  she  was  the  wife  of  De  Brosse  only  in  name;  but  she  so 
far  acknowledged  him  as  a  husband  that  she  received  and  kept 
his  salary  as  governor. 


THE  NE  W  MAITRESSE  -  EN-  TITRE         3  1 7 

Brittany.  According  to  Brantome,  her  husband, 
on  her  arrival,  locked  her  up  in  a  dark  cell  in 
his  chateau,  and,  after  keeping  her  there  for  six 
months,  had  a  vein  opened  in  both  her  arms  and 
feet,  and  allowed  her  to  bleed  to  death.* 

The  court  having  now  an  acknowledged  mai- 
tresse-en-titre,  became,  under  her  lively  influence, 
more  dissipated  than  ever.  Dancing  and  comedies 
chantantes  were  beginning  to  be  far  more  in  fa- 
vour than  hitherto  —  the  duchess  being  especially 
fond  of  both,  and  excelling,  it  appears,  in  the 
dance.  For  every  species  of  pleasure  and  pas- 
time this  lady's  fertile  fancy  devised,  the  king 
found  ample  leisure  ;  but  for  his  duties  he  found 
none,  and  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  fell  com- 
pletely into  the  hands  of  Madame  Louise  and 
Duprat. 

Francis  apparently  disdained  to  give  heed  to 
any  measures  conducive  to  the  welfare  of  his  sub- 
jects and  the  prosperity  of  the  country  ;  or  fes- 
tivity and  gallantry,  hunting  -  parties,  and  other 
amusements  drove  them  entirely  out  of  his  mind. 

*  The  above  tradition  is  disproved  by  the  French  State  Papers, 
which  mention  incidentally  that  "  Francis  I.,  having  convoked 
the  States  of  Brittany  in  1532  at  Vannes,  resided  while  there 
with  the  Count  and  Countess  of  Chateaubriand.  ( )n  his  depart- 
ure the  king,  after  bestowing  several  marks  of  his  favour  on  the 
count,  presented  the  countess  with  the  two  estates  of  Rhuis  and 
Socinio."  Her  death  took  place  in  1537,  eleven  years  after 
her  liaison  with  the  king  had  ended.  She  frequented  the  court, 
too,  it  appears,  from  time  to  time  after  the  death  of  Madame 
Louise  in  1 531. 


3  18  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

To  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  he  gave  himself  up 
immoderately,  probably  from  having  been  long 
deprived  of  a  pursuit  he  was  fond  of.  But  while 
hunting  a  stag  at  Saintonge  he  was  thrown  from 
his  horse,  was  taken  up  unconscious,  and  for 
awhile  serious  consequences  were  expected  to  en- 
sue. Francis  had  had  so  many  falls,  so  many 
blows  and  wounds  on  the  head,  besides  the  slight 
ones  of  Pavia,  that  he  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed 
life,  so  speedily  did  he  recover  from  all  those  dan- 
gerous mishaps. 

The  political  troubles  of  the  time  were  compli- 
cated by  religious  fanaticism  and  persecution. 
The  neighbouring  revolution  of  the  peasants  of 
Germany  —  called  the  Peasants'  War  —  had  so 
far  extended  to  France  that  the  peasants  of  Alsace 
and  Suabia  had  risen  en  masse,  and  marched  direct 
on  Lorraine,  pillaging  the  chateaux  and  massa- 
cring the  inhabitants  ;  threatening  to  enter  F ranee, 
expecting  the  peasantry  to  join  them,  having  heard 
that  all  the  nobility  had  been  killed  at  the  battle 
of  Pavia.  The  Comte  de  Guise  put  an  end  to  the 
invasion  of  Lorraine  by  the  most  rigourous  and 
unsparing  slaughter. 

The  Parliament  had  concluded  a  long  list  of 
grievances  submitted  to  the  regent  by  requiring  a 
more  rigid  punishment  of  Lutheranism,  consider- 
ing that  the  leniency  and  great  indulgence  shown 
towards  persons  affected  with  that  heresy  had 
drawn    down    Divine    vengeance    on    the    nation. 


A    CURE  FOR   LUTHER ANISM  319 

Though  not  at  all  zealous  for  the  faith  herself,  the 
regent,  to  gratify  the  Parliament,  without  heeding 
their  more  justly  complained  of  grievances,  re- 
quested the  opinion  of  the  doctors  of  Sorbonne 
on  the  readiest  way  of  eradicating  the  Lutheran 
heresy.  They  replied,  "  Let  the  guilty  be  com- 
pelled to  retract  or  be  severely  punished,  and  let 
none  be  exempt,  whatsoever  their  rank."  She 
carried  her  inquiry  further,  and  being  then  anx- 
ious to  gain  the  Pope's  favour,  prayed  him  to  tell 
her  '•'  what  was  the  best  remedy  against  Lutheran- 
ism  ? "  His  holiness  briefly  replied  in  a  word  of 
much  meaning  —  "The  Inquisition." 

Marguerite's  known  leaning  towards  the  "  new 
opinions  "  had  more  than  once  called  forth  expres- 
sions of  strong  disapprobation  from  the  Sorbonne. 
Without  actually  naming  her,  it  was  made  per- 
fectly clear  against  whom  these  unfavourable 
allusions  were  directed.  Under  the  spiritual  di- 
rection of  Brigonnet,  Bishop  of  Meaux  —  himself 
accused  of  heretical  views  —  Marguerite  had  be- 
come very  ardent  in  the  cause  of  reform,  and  had 
endeavoured  to  influence  Francis  and  Madame 
Louise  in  its  favour. 

"  Once  she  flattered  herself  that  she  had  almost 
made  converts  of  them,  and  brought  them  to  see 
that  making  known  the  truths  of  God  was  not 
heresy."  But  neither  the  king  nor  his  mother 
was  likely  to  seek  acquaintance  with  the  truth  of 
God  as  Marguerite  sought  it.     She  desired  to  find 


320  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

in  the  pure  Gospel  doctrine  a  guide  for  her  con- 
duct, a  solace  for  her  troubled  mind,  oppressed 
by  some  secret  sorrow,  or  by  remorse  for  some 
repented  sin. 

Yet  her  efforts  are  believed  to  have  inclined 
Francis  towards  toleration,  and  induced  him  to 
afford  protection  to  men  of  learning  who  had 
either  embraced  the  reformed  religion  themselves 
and  were  persecuted  by  the  Sorbonne,  or  were 
partisans  of  those  who  had.  At  all  events,  no  one 
had  yet  been  burnt  at  the  stake  in  France  as  a 
heretic,  when  the  king  set  out  for  Italy.  But  the 
results  of  the  fatal  campaign  of  Pavia,  following 
on  the  constable's  revolt,  which  seemed  to  threaten 
the  monarchy,  drove  the  regent  to  seek  in  the 
papal  alliance  the  possibility  of  her  son's  release, 
and  a  means  of  satisfying  both  the  clergy  and  the 
Parliament. 

The  Roman  Inquisition  transferred  to  the 
French  capital,  the  people  would  not  have  toler- 
ated. A  Gallican  Holy  Office  was  therefore 
established  in  Paris  and  other  large  cities  of  the 
kingdom,  composed  each  of  two  doctors  of  the 
Sorbonne  and  two  parliamentary  judges,  author- 
ised by  a  Papal  Bull  to  commit  any  atrocities  that 
seemed  good  in  the  eyes  of  those  cruel  and  igno- 
rant fanatics.  Madame  Louise,  herself,  ordered 
the  arrest  of  a  young  man  named  Jacques  Pavanne, 
a  disciple  of  the  Bishop  of  Meaux.  This  was  an 
indirect  attack  on  Marguerite.     At  first,  Pavanne 


THE   HERMIT  OF   VI TRY  32 1 

retracted,  then  disavowed  his  retractation.  Again 
he  was  seized,  and,  "persisting  in  his  errors,"  was 
burnt  on  the  Place  de  Greve. 

This  alarmed  the  bishop,  who,  less  firm  in 
maintaining  his  opinions  than  the  youth  who  had 
suffered  for  them,  when  cited  before  the  judges, 
disavowed  all  he  had  taught,  condemned  Luther's 
writings,  and  was  absolved,  promising  all  that  was 
required  of  him,  except  the  persecution  of  others. 
Marguerite,  though  pitying  the  bishop's  lamen- 
table fall,  then  changed  her  confessor. 

Soon  after,  in  order  to  strike  terror  into  waver- 
ing minds  by  a  terrible  example  of  the  rigour  with 
which  this  new  Inquisition  was  prepared  to  punish 
deserters  from  the  true  faith,  both  clergy  and 
people  were  summoned  by  the  tolling  of  the  great 
bell  of  Notre-Dame  to  witness  the  agony  of  an 
unfortunate  hermit  who  had  lived  in  the  forest  of 
Vitry,  and  whose  crime  was  that  he  had  preached 
to  the  peasantry  the  doctrines  of  the  heretics  of 
Meaux.  He  was  to  be  burnt,  or,  rather,  roasted 
over  a  slow  fire,  his  flesh  torn  off  with  red-hot 
pincers,  with  other  horrors  devised  by  the  demoni- 
acal tribunal  that  condemned  him,  the  Sorbonne 
doctors  assuring  the  people  that  the  man  they 
were  conducting  to  the  stake  was  also  "doomed 
by  divine  wrath  to  be  afterwards  cast  into  the 
flames  of  hell." 

The  provincial  tribunals  vied  with  the  capital  in 
the  horror  of  their  proceedings,  inventing  tortures 


322  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

disgraceful  to  humanity,  to  add  to  the  suffering  of 
a  lingering,  frightful  death  ;  tortures  often  sup- 
ported with  such  unflinching  courage  that  even 
the  wretches  employed  to  inflict  them  were  struck 
with  terror  and  a  feeling  of  reverential  awe  by 
the  wonderful  endurance  of  their  victims.  The 
pleadings  of  Marguerite  were  of  little  avail.  She 
herself,  as  well  as  those  she  protected,  was  vehe- 
mently menaced  by  the  fanatics,  ecclesiastical  and 
judicial,  who  made  no  secret  of  their  hatred 
towards  her. 

Appeals  to  her  mother  were  vainly  made.  The 
infamous  Duprat,  who  aimed  at  the  papacy, 
secretly  urged  the  regent  not  to  allow  her 
daughter  to  obtain  an  undue  ascendancy  over  her. 
At  the  same  time,  he  endeavoured  to  convince 
the  king  —  then  in  captivity,  and  from  whom 
Marguerite  was  exerting  herself  to  obtain  a  formal 
prohibition  of  these  horrors  —  "that  the  new- 
fangled opinions  tended  to  nothing  less  than  the 
overthrow  of  monarchy  divine  and  human "  (H. 
Martin). 

When  Louis  de  Berquin,  the  translator  and 
commentator  of  the  writings  of  Luther,  Melanc- 
thon,  and  Erasmus,  was  brought  before  his  en- 
lightened judges  a  second  time — having  once 
before  been  released  by  the  king's  order  —  de- 
clared a  heretic  and  condemned  to  death,  Francis, 
still  a  prisoner  at  Madrid,  wrote,  at  Marguerite's 
request,  to  the  inquisitorial  commissioner  that  he 


LOUIS  DE   BERQUIN  323 

would  judge  of  the  matter  himself.  Soon  after 
Francis  was  free,  and,  on  his  arrival  at  Bayonne, 
Marguerite  obtained  from  him  an  order  to  release 
both  Berquin  and  the  poet  Marot,  who  had  ren- 
dered the  psalms  into  verse.  But  so  unwilling 
were  the  fanatics  to  give  up  Berquin,  that  it 
was  necessary  to  send  an  officer  of  the  king's 
guard  to  bring  him  from  his  cell  in  the  Con- 
ciergerie.* 

In  default  of  Erasmus  himself,  his  works  were 
condemned  and  burned  ;  as  also  those  of  the 
reformers  Lefevre  d'  Etaples,  Farel,  and  others. 
This  irritated  the  "Father  of  Letters."  He  de^ 
clared  that  "he  would  defend  and  protect  those 
men  of  excellent  learning  who  were  the  chief 
ornament  and  glory  of  his  reign,"  and  required 
that  the  books  destroyed  should  be  reprinted,  f 
The  release  of  the  captive  of  Spain  had  therefore 
been  anxiously  looked  forward  to  by  the  reform- 

*  Berquin  was  arrested  a  third  time  in  1 529  and  condemned 
to  do  penance  three  times  ;  afterwards  to  be  shut  up  for  life  in  a 
cell  of  the  Episcopal  prison,  without  books,  pens,  paper  or  ink. 
Contrary  to  the  advice  of  friends,  who  knew  that  this  sentence 
would  be  set  aside  by  the  king,  he  appealed  against  it  to  the  Par- 
liament, by  whom  he  was  the  next  day  sentenced  to  be  "burnt, 
together  with  his  books,  on  the  Place  de  Greve,  and  that  imme- 
diately, before  the  king  or  the  regent  could  interfere  to  rescue 
him."  At  once  this  sentence  was  carried  out — a  large  crowd 
assembling  to  witness  it. 

t  The  Swiss  reformer  Zwingli  at  this  time  dedicated  his  book, 
•'True  and  False  Religion"  (•'  Vraie  ft  Fausse  Religion  "),  to 
Francis  I.,  and  sent  it  to  him  from  Zurich. 


324  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

ers,  with  expectations  doomed,  unfortunately,  to 
disappointment. 

The  marriage  of  Marguerite  some  few  months 
after  (January,  1527)  was  an  unfavourable  event 
for  the  reforming  party  in  France,  —  her  frequent 
absence  from  the  French  Court  diminishing  much 
of  the  effect  of  her  influence  on  the  king.  Henri 
d'Albret  was  her  junior  by  several  years ;  but 
political  motives  imposed  this  marriage  on  her,  it 
being  to  the  interest  of  France  to  keep  up  a  close 
alliance  with  the  sovereign  of  the  small  kingdom 
of  Navarre.  Marguerite  had  then  become  rather 
more  serious  than  was  agreeable  to  the  ladies  of 
Madame  Louise's  circle,  or  to  Madame  Louise 
herself,  who  often  complained  that  the  presence  of 
Madame  d'  Alencon  was  a  restraint  on  the  gaiety 
of  the  court. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Anne  Boleyn.  —  Vexing  Her  Liege  Lord. — Amusing  the  Am 
bassadors.  —  Let  Him  Return  to  Captivity.  ■ —  The  Modern 
Regulus.  —  Great  Services  Recompensed.  —  Bourbon's  Band 
of  Adventurers. —  Vivas  for  Bourbon. —The  Grand  Impe- 
rial Army.  —  In  Pursuit  of  Bourbon.  —  The  Doomed  City. 
—  Death  of  Charles  de  Bourbon.  —  Fruitless  Prayers.  — 
The  Sack  of  Rome. 

iHEN  the  Duchesse  d'  Alencon  married 
Henry  of  Navarre,  a  young  English 
girl,  who  since  the  death  of  Oueen 
Claude  had  been  a  member  of  her  household,  left 
France  and  returned  to  her  family  in  England, 
where  she  was  introduced  to  the  court  as  one  of 
the  ladies  of  Queen  Katharine.  This  young  girl 
was  Anne  Boleyn,  who,  if  born  in  1507  —  the 
most  probable  date  given  —  was  then  in  her  twen- 
tieth year.  The  freshness  of  youth,  fine  eyes,  an 
elegant  figure,  and  an  abundance  of  auburn  hair, 
were  her  chief  personal  attractions,  which,  with  a 
lively  disposition  and  the  graces  of  manner  she 
had  acquired  in  France,  completely  fascinated 
Henry  VIII. 

For    some    time    previously  he    had    meditated 
seeking    a  reversal  of    the  dispensation   obtained 

3-5 


326  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

from  Pope  Julian  II.,  enabling  him  to  many 
Katharine  of  Aragon,  his  brother's  widow.  After 
eighteen  years  of  marriage  he  began  to  grow 
weary  of  her.  "  She  who  hitherto  had  been  so 
serious,  had  taken,"  he  said,  "to  laughing,  to  going 
out,  to  kissing  her  hand  to  the  people  who  cheered 
her,  and  to  showing  no  sympathy  with  him  —  and 
this  merely  to  vex  her  liege  lord  "  ("  State  Papers  "). 
Naturally,  he  became  much  troubled  in  mind,  a 
prey  to  anxiety  and  a  remorseful  conscience,  lest, 
by  his  marriage  with  Katharine,  he  had,  peradven- 
ture,  unwittingly  done  what  was  unlawful. 

When  first  assailed  by  these  doubts  he  appears 
to  have  been  desirous  of  marrying  the  Duchesse 
d'  Alencon,  whose  sisterly  devotion  in  journeying 
to  Spain  to  console  her  brother,  and  to  facilitate, 
if  possible,  his  release,  had  greatly  charmed  him. 
He  had  serious  thoughts  of  then  asking  her  in 
marriage,  that  she  might  hold  herself  in  readiness 
at  once  to  fill  Katharine's  place  when  vacant. 
Some  correspondence,  diplomatically  vague,  seems 
to  have  passed  on  the  subject,  but  of  course  no 
such  premature  demand  for  her  hand  could  be 
seriously  entertained,  while  political  motives  also 
made  it  inexpedient  to  give  any  encouragement  at 
that  moment  to  Henry's  views  for  the  repudiation 
of  the  emperor's  aunt. 

Francis  had,  indeed,  more  than  enough  on  hand 
of  his  own  arrangements  to  settle  with  the  emperor, 
than  appeared  likely  to  terminate  without  having 


AMUSING    THE   AMBASSADORS  ^27 

recourse  once  more  to  war.  Not  that  he  allowed 
his  troubles  to  interfere  with  his  pleasures.  Quite 
the  reverse;  for  the  arrival  at- Cognac  of  Lannoy, 
the  Viceroy  of  Naples,  and  other  ambassadors,  • 
charged  by  the  emperor  again  to  demand  the 
execution  of  the  Treaty  of  Madrid,  was  but  the 
signal  for  further  festivities.  Lannoy,  who  had 
done  his  best  to  mediate,  though  with  little  or  no 
success,  between  Francis  and  Charles,  was  received 
most  graciously,  and  the  embassy  in  general  enter- 
tained magnificently.  The  king  amused  and 
detained  them,  in  fact,  while  he  gave  his  adherence 
to  the  Holy  League  for  the  expulsion  of  the 
emperor  from  Italy. 

Probably  that  which  more  exasperated  than 
amused  them  was  the  scene  got  up  as  a  reply  to 
the  demand  of  their  imperial  master.  The  notables 
and  prelates  of  the  realm  were  convoked  at  Cognac 
personally  to  inform  the  emperor's  delegates  that 
"  the  dismemberment  of  France  was  not  in  the 
king's  power.  They  would  not  suffer  it ;  and  should 
he  think  of  commanding  it,  he  would  not  be  obeyed." 
The  deputies  of  the  states  of  Burgundy  were  then 
introduced,  and  "  solemnly  declared  they  would 
submit  to  no  change  in  the  government  of  their 
country.  From  the  time  of  Clovis,"  they  said, 
"  they  had  been  governed  by  princes  of  France, 
and  would  continue  to  be.  If  Francis  I.  should 
abandon  them,  they  were  determined  then  to  take 
up  arms  to  resist  any  other  domination." 


328  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Informed  of  this,  Charles,  greatly  irritated  at 
having  been  so  completely  duped  by  Francis, 
replied  that  "  if  the  king  had  not  the  power  to 
dispose  of  his  provinces,  he  at  least  was  able  to 
fulfil  his  oath  and  return  to  captivity.  Let  him 
not,"  he  said,  "  throw  on  his  subjects  the  odium  of 
his  own  bad  faith.  To  fulfil  his  engagements  he 
has  but  to  return  to  Spain.  Let  him  do  so !  " 
Francis's  sole  response  was  to  read  aloud  in  the 
presence  of  Lannoy  the  terms  of  the  treaty  with 
the  Pope  and  the  Italian  states,  which  until  that 
morning  he  had  deferred  signing. 

Henry  VIII.  was  declared  protector  of  the  Holy 
League.  He  was  to  receive  a  large  sum  of  money 
after  certain  stated  conquests  had  been  made.  He 
took  no  active  part  in  it  ;  but  in  consideration  of 
an  annual  payment  of  50,000  crowns,  renounced 
his  pretensions  to  the  throne  of  France.  As  soon 
as  Francis  had  signed  this  league,  Clement  VII. 
absolved  him  from  the  oath  he  had  taken  to  fulfil 
the  stipulations  of  the  Treaty  of  Madrid. 

A  Diet  of  the  empire  was  then  assembled  at 
Spire,  to  which  Francis  sent  an  ambassador  to 
explain  that  "  although  the  King  of  France  would 
willingly,  like  Regulus,  have  returned  to  captivity 
and  undergone  the  most  cruel  torments  rather 
than  fail  in  his  word,  his  subjects  and  the  safety  of 
his  country  would  not  permit  of  this  self-sacrifice. 
He  offered,  therefore,  two  million  crowns  for  the 
retention  of  Burgundy  and  the  ransom  of  his  sons." 


THE   MODERN  REGULUS  329 

The  allusion  to  the  Roman  consul  Regulus  was  a 
singularly  unhappy  one.  The  ambassador  must 
have  introduced  it  into  his  message  in  irony. 

The  Holy  League,  which  was  to  free  Italy  from 
a  foreign  yoke,  failed  entirely  from  want  of  troops, 
want  of  money,  and  in  some  instances  want  of 
will,  to  accomplish  the  object  in  view.  The  same 
wants  prevented  the  emperor  from  effectually 
opposing  this  league,  for  his  coffers,  like  those  of 
his  grandsire  Maximilian,  were  always  empty  ;  and 
although  his  fleets  were  constantly  entering  his 
ports  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the  Indies,  yet  their 
cost  is  said  to  have  often  exceeded  what  they  re- 
turned, at  least  to  the  treasury  of  the  state.  His 
army,  which  for  several  months  had  received  no 
pay,  was  destitute  of  clothing  and  also  ill -pro- 
visioned, refused  to  march  when  ordered. 

But  the  disunion  of  the  Italian  states,  and  the 
failure  of  Francis  to  send  the  aid  he  had  promised 
in  troops  and  money  —  for  he  sought  rather  to 
sacrifice  them  to  his  interests  than  to  assist  them 
in  supporting  their  own  —  served  the  imperial 
cause  almost  as  well  as  an  army.  The  Pope  and 
the  Venetian  states  remonstrated.  But  Francis 
was  too  deeply  immersed  in  pleasure  to  feel  any 
anxiety  about  the  fate  of  his  allies  ;  and  his  ten- 
derly attached  mother  would  not  allow  any  matters 
of  business  likely  to  be  annoying  or  wearisome  to 
be  submitted  to  him.  She  preferred  to  manage 
them  herself. 


330  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Bourbon's  desperate  condition,  and  the  project 
attributed  to  him  of  turning  the  difficulties  of 
both  emperor  and  king  to  account  and  conquering 
a  kingdom  for  himself  independent  of  them,  was 
also  a  means  of  laying  Italy  once  more  prostrate 
and  at  the  mercy  of  Charles  V. 

Charles  was  desirous  of  recompensing  the  great 
services  Bourbon  had  rendered  him,  and  Pescara 
dying  suddenly  (poisoned,  it  was  suspected),  he 
gave  him  the  sole  command  of  an  army  that 
existed  not.  He  promised  him,  too,  the  sover- 
eignty of  Milan,  if  he  could  conquer  that  duchy, 
and  with  a  very  small  sum  of  money  and  a  roving 
commission  sent  him  forth,  somewhat  after  the 
manner  of  a  freebooter,  to  levy  such  troops  as  he 
could,  and  with  them  subdue  or  conquer. 

The  name  of  Charles  de  Bourbon  was  a  power 
in  Italy  and  the  German  states  amongst  those 
roving  bands  of  mercenaries  who  hired  themselves 
out  to  fight  for  those  who  paid  them  best,  or, 
in  default  of  pay,  permitted  unrestrained  plunder. 
Thousands  soon  flocked  to  his  standard  —  Italians, 
Spaniards,  and  Germans  —  the  money  he  had 
brought  with  him  not  sufficing  to  enroll  them  all 
at  a  crown  per  head.  How  were  these  conquering 
hosts  to  be  paid  —  for  no  further  remittance  of 
funds  was  sent  to  him  —  except  by  plundering  the 
cities  that  had  declared  against  the  emperor  ? 

He  had  driven  out  Sforza  from  Milan,  and  prom- 
ised the  unfortunate  Milanese,  who  regarded  him 


VIVAS  FOR  BOVRBOX  33  I 

as  a  saviour,  soon  to  return  to  them.  Whatever 
his  motives — whether  to  conquer  on  his  own  ac- 
countv  or  to  break  up  the  league  against  the 
emperor  —  Bourbon  assembled  his  adventurous 
bands,  for  the  most  part  old  soldiers  who  had 
already  served  under  him  ;  courageous,  pitiless, 
but  devoted  to  their  chief.  He  told  them  that  he 
was  as  destitute  as  they  were,  that  he  was  now  a 
poor  cavalier  with  nothing  but  his  sword  to  depend 
on  ;  that  he  could  offer  them  no  pay ;  that  they 
would  have  much  hardship  and  privation  to  endure, 
but  that  supporting  it  bravely  he  would  lead  them 
to  victory  and  wealth.  With  enthusiasm  they 
shouted  "  Vive  Bourbon  !  "  and  vowed  to  follow 
wherever  he  led,  even  "a  tons  les  diab!cs." 

The  ransom  of  two  or  three  prisoners  at  Milan 
furnished  him  with  the  means  of  distributing  a 
trifle  of  money  amongst  those  dauntless  hordes. 
In  three  separate  bands  —  Italian,  Spanish,  and 
German — headed  by  Bourbon,  Philibert  de  Cha- 
lons, Prince  of  Orange  (another  great  commander, 
of  whom  Francis  had  made  an  implacable  enemy), 
and  Georges  Freundsberg,  they  began  their  march. 
It  was  the  depth  of  winter  ;  yet  they  were  full  of 
spirits,  observing  also  from  habit  a  kind  of  disci- 
pline that  under  the  circumstances  could  hardly 
have  been  enforced.  Wholly  without  provisions 
or  other  necessaries  for  the  equipment  of  an  army, 
they  subsisted  on  what  the  inhabitants  of  the  vil- 
lages and  small  towns  they  passed  through,  insti- 


332  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

gated  by  terror,  eagerly  supplied  them  with  ;  their 
commanders  sharing  their  hardships.  The  once 
brilliant  and  wealthy  Charles  de  Bourbon  plodded 
on  on  foot  like  the  rest  ;  his  sole  retinue,  one  of 
his  soldier  band,  leading  a  weary-footed  mule,  the 
bearer  of  all  he  possessed  —  his  armour. 

Terror  spread  throughout  Italy.  The  principal 
cities  put  themselves  in  a  state  of  defence,  for 
none  knew  where  this  grand  imperial  army,  on 
conquest  and  plunder  bent,  would  strike  its  first 
blow. 

Meanwhile,  for  nearly  two  months,  onward  they 
march,  cutting  their  way  through  thick  forests, 
fording  swollen  rivers,  traversing  with  extreme 
difficulty  mountain  roads,  where  the  snow  already 
lies  thick  and  is  still  falling  fast.  Too  often  they 
are  without  food  ;  too  many  without  clothing  to 
defend  their  toil-worn  bodies  from  the  rigours  of 
the  winter,  and  the  best  shod  at  the  outset  are 
now  shoeless.  Courage  begins  to  fail  these  bands 
of  desperadoes.  The  stoutest  hearts  and  strong- 
est frames  succumb  to  starvation,  disappointed 
hopes,  and  misery,  and  sinking  on  the  ground  seem 
resigned  to  die. 

Others  are  more  disposed  to  mutiny,  to  menace 
their  commander-in-chief,  even  to  whisper  the 
word  "cowardice."  For  several  cities  they  had 
approached  on  their  route  —  Placentia,  Bologna, 
and  others — bourbon  had  seen  fit  to  retreat  from, 
finding  them  too  well  guarded,  too  well  prepared 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  BOURBON  333 

to  resist  the  attack  of  ill -disciplined  troops  want- 
ing artillery  and  other  necessaries  for  successful 
warfare. 

But  although  adverse  fate  had  made  him  almost 
as  desperate  as  the  men  who  followed  his  fortunes, 
Bourbon  was  generous  and  humane.  He  pos- 
sessed also  a  sort  of  eloquence  that  greatly  swayed 
the  soldiery,  and  gave  him  considerable  power 
over  them.  Addressing  them  on  the  present 
occasion,  he  soothed  their  anger,  revived  their 
courage,  and  by  promises  (terrible  promises,  cer- 
tainly) of  great  booty  to  compensate  their  suffer- 
ings, called  on  them  still  to  endure.  As  usual, 
they  responded  by  vivas  and  oaths  of  fidelity. 

In  great  alarm  for  the  safety  of  Florence  and 
Rome,  Clement  VII.,  after  heaping  reproaches  on 
the  libertine  King  of  France,  concluded  a  truce 
with  Lannoy  for  a  period  of  eight  months  —  the 
head  of  the  league  being  thus  withdrawn  from  it. 
In  all  haste  messengers  were  despatched  in  vari- 
ous directions  in  pursuit  of  Bourbon  and  his  wild 
band,  to  stay  their  march,  in  consequence  of  the 
suspension  of  arms.  It  was  too  late.  Already 
his  troops  were  ravaging  the  papal  territories,  and 
seemed  to  be  on  their  way  to  Florence. 

Hearing  of  a  truce,  the  men  began  to  rave  and 
threaten  ;  and  Lannoy,  who  sought  Bourbon  in  his 
camp,  dared  not  approach  it.  Disregarding  the 
message  he  brought,  the  line  of  march  was  sud- 
denly  changed,  and    the  cry   was    no  longer  "To 


334  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Florence!"  but  "To  Rome!"  On  the  5th  of 
May,  Bourbon  encamped  before  that  doomed  city ; 
the  men,  as  they  came  in  sight  of  it,  loudly  sing- 
ing in  praise  of  their  leader  as  he  pointed  to  its 
palaces  and  churches.  Having  posted  his  troops 
behind  St.  Peter's,  he  sent  a  trumpet  demand- 
ing permission  to  enter  the  city  and  purchase 
provisions. 

On  the  morning  of  the  6th  the  attack  began, 
the  army  being  divided  into  three  brigades.  The 
mists  of  daybreak  concealed  their  advance  from 
the  Romans  until  they  had  nearly  approached  the 
moat  that  surrounded  the  ancient  city  walls. 
Then  each  brigade  rushed  to  the  assault,  shouting 
the  refrain  of  a  song  they  had  composed  in 
Bourbon's  honour  — 

"  Silence  a  vous,  Ce'sar,  Annibal  et  Scipion  / 
Vive  la  gloire  de  Bourbon  !  " 

The  first  two  assaults  were  repulsed  with  vigour. 
The  third  was  lead  by  Bourbon  himself.  He  was 
clad  in  complete  armour,  over  which  he  wore  a 
casaque  of  silver  tissue,  that  his  troops,  recognis- 
ing him  foremost  in  the  fight,  might  be  inspired 
with  fiercer  courage.  He  had  beheld  with  dismay 
the  repulse  of  the  first  two  brigades  ;  they  now 
returned  to  the  charge  to  support  the  third. 
Leaping  from  his  horse,  he  seized  a  scaling  ladder, 
planted  it  against  the  walls,  and  was  ascending  it. 


Louise  of  Savoy,  Duchesse  tVAngoaleme. 

Photo-etching  from  painting  in  the 
Chateau  de  Beauregarde. 


«m  f1 


DEATH  OF  CHARLES  DE  BOURBON       335 

But  at  that  moment  a  shot  fired  from  the  ramparts 
near  San-Spirito  laid  him  low. 

Some  accounts  say  that  Bourbon  died  imme- 
diately, shot  through  the  heart,  and  that  the 
Prince  of  Orange,  who  succeeded  him  in  the  chief 
command,  threw  a  cloak  over  him  to  conceal  his 
death  from  the  soldiery,  and  prevent  the  conster- 
nation and  confusion  that  would  have  immediately 
ensued.  Another  statement  is  that  Bourbon, 
feeling  that  he  was  wounded,  was  assisted  to 
descend,  and  carried  into  a  neighbouring  chapel. 
The  Thracian  Gate  being  afterwards  taken,  he 
was  conveyed  into  the  Church  of  San-Sisto,  where 
a  priest  was  found  to  confess  him.  He  desired  to 
be  taken  to  Milan,  though  some  fancied  he  meant 
Rome,  as  he  died  murmuring  "  A  Rome !  a 
Rome !  "  * 

Thus  died  Charles  de  Bourbon,  the  victim  of 
the  intrigues,  the  infamous  arts,  the  persecution 
of  a  shameless  woman  of  unbridled  passions  — ■ 
the  evil  genius  of  France.  "  Spain,  whom  he 
served  too  well,  neglected  him  ;  France,  whom  he 
betrayed,  pitied  him,  and  cast  all  her  hatred  and 
horror  of  his  revolt  on  the  Duchesse  d'Angou- 
leme  who  had  driven  him  to  it  "  (Servan). 

But  the  death  of  Bourbon  did  not  save  Rome. 

*  The  sculptor  Cellini  claims  to  have  fired  the  shot  that 
proved  fatal  to  Bourbon.  He  gives  an  account  of  the  siege 
and  sack  of  Rome  in  his  memoirs,  and,  as  usual  with  him,  states 
that  his  part  in  it  was  a  conspicuous  one. 


33^  HE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  soldiers  were  soon  aware  that  their  general 
was  killed.  Their  rage  was  furious.  They  vowed 
to  avenge  his  death.  "  Bourbon  !  Bourbon !  blood ! 
blood!  carnage  !  revenge!  "  they  screeched  in  the 
madness  of  their  wrath.  The  assault  was  re- 
newed, and  speedily  these  brigand  bands  were 
in  possession  of  the   Holy  City. 

Clement  VII.,  on  their  approach,  excommuni- 
cated Bourbon  and  the  whole  of  his  army,  and 
during  the  combat  was  offering  up  fruitless  pray- 
ers for  victory  at  the  altar  of  St.  Peter's,  though 
he  had  neglected  to  take  the  most  ordinary  pre- 
caution to  prevent  defeat  or  to  secure  the  safety 
of  the  city.  When  the  shrieks  and  lamentations 
of  the  unfortunate  people  met  his  ear,  and  he 
knew  that  Rome  was  taken  by  a  barbarous  and 
pitiless  enemy,  Italians  as  well  as  Spaniards  and 
Germans,  he  fled  to  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo. 

The  sack  of  Rome  is  one  of  the  most  terrible 
events  of  warfare  that  history  records.  No 
quarter  was  given.  All  were  slain  without  re- 
gard to  age  or  sex.  The  most  horrible  tortures 
were  inflicted  to  extort  money  or  to  compel  their 
unhappy  victims  to  declare  where  treasure  was 
concealed.  Drunk  with  fury,  they  committed 
excesses  which  the  mind  recoils  from  dwelling 
upon,  while  the  pen  depicts  them.  Churches  and 
palaces  were  plundered,  and  Rome  remained  for 
some  months  in  the  possession  of  these  brutal 
drunken    hordes,    wholly    deaf    to    the    voice    of 


THE   SACK   OF  ROME  ■$$'] 

humanity.  Their  commander  was  powerless  to 
restrain  them,  and  it  was  well  for  Bourbon  that 
he  did  not  live  to  witness  the  unspeakable  horrors 
inflicted  by  the  ruffian  bands  he  had  let  loose  on 
the  Holy  City. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Relieved  from  a  Difficulty.  —  Clement  VII.  a  Prisoner.  —  War  for 
the  Release  of  the  Pope.  —  The  Pope's  Ransom.  —  Clement 
Escapes  in  Disguise.  —  The  Divorce  and  Absolution.  — 
Burgundy  or  Captivity.  —  Royal  Condescension!  —  A  Bold 
and  Startling  Opinion.  —  Magnanimous  Frenchmen !  —  The 
Challenge  and  the  Reply.  —  The  Chevalier  King  Holds 
Back. — Marriage  of  Madame  Renee. —  Madame  Renee's 
Bridal  Dress.  —  Edifying  and  Effective.  —  An  Accomplished 
Pupil.  —  The  French  Fleet  in  the  Levant.  —  Loss  of  a 
Faithful  Ally.  —  Heretics  and  Infidels.  —  Two  Wily  Female 
Diplomatists.  —  The  Ladies'  Peace.  —  New  Coinage  for  the 
Ransom.  —  Mutual  Precautions.  —  The  Spanish  Bride. — 
Fall  of  Florence. 

|  HAT  Rome  had  fallen  ;  that  the  Pope 
was  a  prisoner  —  besieged  in  the  Castle 
of  St.  Angelo,  to  which  untenable  for- 
tress, with  strange  fatuity,  he  had  fled  for  safety 
—  was  unlooked-for  news  that  gratified  Charles 
V.  no  less  than  it  surprised  him.  The  death  of 
Bourbon,  to  whom  he  owed  victories  towards 
which  he  had  supplied  neither  money  nor  men, 
also  relieved  him  from  much  difficulty  —  that  of 
suitably  rewarding  the  man  who  had  declined  to 
become  his  courtier ;  who  yet  served  him  with 
his  sword  while  intent  on  avenging  his  own  great 

33* 


CLEMENT   VII.    A    PRISONER  339 

wrongs  and  creating  a  future  for  himself,  independ- 
ent of  both  emperor  and  king. 

Great,  however,  as  his  satisfaction  may  have 
been  at  an  event  so  favourable  to  his  political 
views,  Charles  felt  compelled  by  the  indignation 
expressed  throughout  Europe  at  the  horrors  of 
the  sack  of  Rome  —  surpassing  all  that  history 
relates  of  the  atrocities  of  Alaric  and  his  Visigoths, 
and  in  which  Spaniards  had  been  the  most  con- 
spicuous for  the  savage  brutality  of  their  crimes 
—  to  hasten  publicly  to  disclaim  all  knowledge  of 
Bourbon's  intention  of  assaulting  the  Holy  City. 

His  queen  had  just  given  birth  to  an  heir  to  the 
Spanish  crown,  and  for  the  celebration  of  this 
auspicious  event  preparations  on  a  grand  scale 
had  been  ordered.  They  were  now  countermanded, 
and  general  festivity  gave  place  to  general  mourn- 
ing. Religious  processions  paraded  the  streets, 
carrying  the  relics  and  shrines  of  the  most  popular 
saints.  The  churches  were  thronged,  and  day  and 
night  prayers  were  offered  up  throughout  Spain 
for  the  release  of  God's  vicegerent. 

Yet  the  Pope  was  the  prisoner  of  an  army  that 
fought  under  the  imperial  banner,  and  whose  com- 
mander-in-chief held  the  city  in  the  emperor's 
name.*  The  Pope's  ransom  was  fixed  by  the 
army  at  400,000  ducats,   though   an   order   from 

*  Freundsberg  did  not  enter  Rome  with  his  lansquenets.  Their 
mutinous  conduct  while  on  their  march  so  enraged  him  that  a  fit 
of  apoplexy  ensued,  which  proved  fatal. 


34-0  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

Charles,  one  might  suppose,  would  have  set  him 
free  at  once.  It  was  believed,  however,  that  the 
desperadoes  cantonned  in  Rome  would  have  wholly 
disregarded  his  order,  and  probably  have  com- 
mitted further  outrages.  The  odium  of  his  deten- 
tion nevertheless  rested  on  the  emperor. 

Henry  VIII.  and  Francis  I.  announced  their 
intention  of  releasing  the  pontiff  by  force  of  arms, 
-  Henry  engaging  to  contribute  a  large  propor- 
tion of  the  sum  required  for  the  pay  and  equip- 
ment of  the  army,  which  was  to  be  raised  in 
France,  and  commanded  by  Marechal  Lautrec. 
Preparations  for  resuming  the  war  were  speedily 
beguiv  Charles,  in  consequence,  relaxed  a  little 
towards  Francis,  offering  to  accept  the  terms  he 
had  himself  proposed  when  a  captive.  But  Fran- 
cis, now  free,  would  listen  to  no  such  arrange- 
ment. 

More  than  a  twelvemonth  had  elapsed  from 
the  time  of  the  king's  liberation  ere  he  entered 
his  capital.  He  then  thought  it  right  to  visit  the 
chapel  of  Ste.  Calez  —  the  saint  to  whom  he 
had  especially  addressed  his  prayers  in  captivity. 
Her  shrine,  with  those  of  other  holy  saints  and 
martyrs,  had  been  on  the  altar  during  the  whole 
period  of  his  absence,  in  order  to  ensure  that  suc- 
cess which,  it  appears,  it  was  not  their  good  pleas- 
ure to  grant  him.  The  shrines  were  now  replaced 
in  their  niches,  the  saints'  good  offices  having 
once  more  been  entreated  for  the  future.      "  The 


THE  POPE'S  RANSOM  34 1 

king  and  his  court  then  returned  to  St.  Germain- 
en-Laye,  where  they  remained  some  time,  —  Fran- 
cis going  to  Paris  at  night  only,  masked,  and  in 
disguise." 

The  army  designed  for  the  liberation  of  the 
Pope  made  several  conquests  in  Italy,  Marechal 
Lautrec,  as  he  steadily  advanced  towards  the 
Papal  states,  taking  and  ravaging  many  towns  to 
avenge  former  defeats  of  the  French.  Charles, 
fearing  therefore  that  the  Pope  would  be  freed  by 
main  force,  proposed  to  release  him  on  payment 
of  250,000  ducats  to  the  imperial  troops  ;  his  two 
nephews  being  delivered  into  the  charge  of  the 
imperial  generals  as  hostages  until  the  whole  of 
the  ransom  —  now  increased  to  500,000  —  should 
be  fully  paid.  Several  other  stipulations  were 
added,  to  all  of  which  Clement  assented,  without 
any  intention  of  fulfilling  thenij/  He  had  supported 
with  little  dignity  the  inconveniences  of  captivity, 
to  which  his  own  folly  had  doomed  him,  and  as 
soon  as  provisions  failed  surrendered  the  castle  and 
all  its  treasures. 

He  now  determined  not  to  put  himself  into  the 
power  of  the  Spaniards,  but  rather  to  carry  out  a 
plan  he  had  carefully  arranged  for  his  flight,  which 
he  effected  on  the  9th  of  December,  the  evening 
previous  to  that  appointed  for  completing  the  ar- 
rangements with  the  imperialists  for  his  liberation. 
His  disguise  was  a  blouse,  a  long  false  beard,  and 
a  tattered   slouched   hat,  which  partly   concealed 


342  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

his  head  and  face.  He  had  a  basket  on  his  arm, 
and  an  empty  sack  on  his  back.  No  suspicion 
being  excited,  he  passed  the  sentinels  unchal- 
lenged, supposed  to  be  one  of  the  domestics  of 
the  major-domo  of  the  papal  palace.  Travelling 
all  night  —  a  conveyance  having  been  in  waiting 
for  him  — he  was  safely  housed  in  the  dilapidated, 
old  episcopal  palace  of  Orvieto  before  his  escape 
was  discovered. 

Some  few  days  after,  the  Pope  received  at  Or- 
vieto the  unwelcome  visit  of  an  English  envoy, 
deputed  by  Henry  VIII.  to  request  that  the  dis- 
pensation from  his  former  marriage,  which  his 
holiness  had  promised  before  his  captivity  to  for- 
ward to  the  king,  might  now  be  entrusted  to  him  ; 
his  highness's  grace  being  set  on  marrying  Ma- 
dame Anne  Boleyn.  "  Clement  was  much  per- 
plexed by  this  ill  -  timed  demand.  He  admitted 
the  promise,  but  pleaded  recent  events  as  a  valid 
excuse  for  its  non-fulfilment ;  while  from  the  dread 
he  was  then  in  of  the  resentment  of  the  Spaniards, 
and  also  because  of  the  charge  received  from  the 
emperor  to  do  nothing  prejudicial  to  the  queen, 
he  must  beg  at  least,"  he  said,   "for  delay." 

But  Knight  vehemently  protested  against  any 
further  delay.  "  Had  not  his  holiness  already  in- 
formed his  royal  master  that  he  would  comply 
with  his  desire  ?  Now  he  strove  to  evade  it. 
How,  then,  could  he  expect  his  word  to  be  trusted 
to  in  future?    Thus  closely  pressed,  a  promise  was 


BURGUNDY  OR    CAPTIVITY  343 

at  last  wrung  from  the  Pope  — "  though  it  cut 
him  to  the  heart  "  —  to  send  the  divorce  to  Henry, 
but  on  condition  that  it  should  not  be  acted  upon 
until  after  he,  Clement,  was  fully  restored  to 
liberty. 

Some  months  later  Clement  made  his  peace 
with  Charles  V.  One  of  the  secret  articles  of 
this  treaty  stipulated  that  the  Pope  should  give 
absolution  to  all  the  soldiers  who  had  taken  part 
in  the  excesses  committed  in  Rome  ;  the  emperor 
desiring  to  make  use  of  this  horde  of  demons  in 
his  "holy  war  "  against  the  infidel,  Solyman  II., 
who  had  invaded  Hungary  and  threatened  Vienna. 
"  In  an  age  so  fertile  in  instances  of  striking  im- 
morality," writes  M.  Henri  Martin,  "there  was 
perhaps  none  more  scandalous  than  this  papal  ab- 
solution, covering  every  crime  that  hell  itself  could 
have  dreamt  of."  Charles  V.  confirmed  the  lead- 
ers in  their  command,  and  made  no  scruple  of  tak- 
ing every  advantage  of  the  sacrilegious  victory  they 
had  obtained  for  him. 

Meanwhile,  negotiation  with  no  satisfactory  re- 
sult had  been  continued  between  Francis  I.  and 
the  emperor.  The  latter  still  demanded  Bur- 
gundy or  the  king's  return  to  captivity.  Francis 
was  willing  to  yield  on  all  points  except  Burgundy 
and  a  Spanish  prison,  but  repeated  his  offer  of 
two  million  crowns  to  redeem  the  duchy  and  to 
ransom  his  sons.  He  proposed,  also,  to  renew  his 
engagement  to  Eleanor,  whose  dowry  was  a  mil- 


344  THE    COURT  OF  FRAATCE 

lion  crowns,  which  dowry  was  not  to  be  paid,  so 
that  nominally  the  ransom  offered  amounted  to 
three  millions. 

The  Duchesse  d'  Etampes,  whose  favour  and 
influence  were  daily  increasing,  seemed  likely  to 
develop,  under  an  air  of  gaiety  and  thoughtless- 
ness, into  a  formidable  political  intriguer.  She 
already  exacted  as  much  homage  as  though  she 
were  Queen  of  France  ;  and  the  power  over  the 
king  she  secretly  exerted  was  immense,  while 
openly  she  affected  to  receive  the  monarch's  at- 
tentions with  extremest  diffidence  and  reserve. 
The  prospect  of  a  new  queen  at  the  Court  of 
France  in  no  way  dismayed  her.  "  If  the  king 
married  Eleanor  it  would  not  affect  her  position  ; 
and  if  his  marriage  was  a  political  necessity,  she 
would  be  the  last  of  his  advisers  to  oppose  it." 

Francis  had,  however,  become  weary  of  this 
long -pending  negotiation  with  the  emperor.  He 
wanted  money  for  his  wars,  for  his  pleasures,  and 
one  must  at  least  give  him  credit  for  desiring  to 
ransom  his  sons  ;  the  more  so  as  Charles  had  cyn- 
ically informed  him  that  the  climate  of  Spain  did 
not  seem  to  agree  with  the  dauphin. 

The  Pope  had  absolved  Francis  from  his  oath. 
He  would  now  be  absolved  by  his  people  —  just 
because  it  was  his  ban  plaisir  that  their  voice 
should  be  with  him  on  this  occasion.  Yet  he 
forbore  to  assemble  the  States  General  in  which 
the  people  would  have  had  a  voice,  but  convoked 


A    BOLD   AND   STARTLING   OPINION       345 

a  "bed  of  justice,"  or  assembly  of  notables,  for 
the    1 2th  of  December  in  Paris. 

Francis  appeared  in  person,  and  while  depre- 
cating the  idea  of  any  body  of  men  in  the  state 
attempting  to  limit  his  authority,  condescended  to 
explain  to  them  his  position  towards  Charles  V. 
"  He  spoke  of  the  indignities  he  had  endured  in 
captivity,  and  of  his  object  in  assembling  his  trusty 
councillors,  his  faithful  subjects  and  vassals  —  his 
need,  in  fact,  of  subsidies.  If  the  emperor  ac- 
cepted peace,  he  would  promptly  require  two  mil- 
lions of  gold  crowns  for  the  ransom  of  the  young 
princes,  his  hostages.  If  he  declared  for  war,  he 
would  still  want  the  same  sum  for  the  expenses  of 
his  armies ;  unless  the  friends,  as  he  considered 
them,  whose  advice  he  now  asked  should  be  of 
opinion  that  honour  demanded  his  return  to  Spain." 

Of  course  their  answer  was  not  doubtful  ;  he 
ran  no  risk  by  consulting  them.  Yet  there  was 
one  voice  against  him.  Bishop  Poncher,  of  the 
diocese  of  Paris,  was  of  opinion  that  the  king  was 
under  an  obligation  to  return  to  Spain,  and  that, 
in  the  event  of  his  doing  so,  some  limits  should  be 
placed  to  the  authority  of  the  regent.  The  bold- 
ness of  this  advice  or  opinion  startled  and  alarmed 
the  assembly,*  who  were  then  dismissed  to  take 
into  consideration  the  best  means  for  satisfying  the 
king's  needs,  and  to  assemble  again  on   the   30th. 

*It  was  considered  high  treason,  and  some  days  after  the 
bishop  was  seized  and  put  in  prison,  where  eventually  he  died. 


34 6  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

On  this  second  occasion  Cardinal  Bourbon,  in  the 
name  of  the  clergy,  offered  300,000  gold  crowns 
as  their  contribution  towards  the  two  millions,  on 
these  conditions  :  That  the  king  should  endeavour 
to  obtain  the  Pope's  release ;  that  he  should  exter- 
minate the  Lutheran  heresy,  and  that  he  should 
preserve  the  immunities  of  the  Church.  The 
Due  de  Vendome  on  the  part  of  the  nobility,  the 
President  de  Selve  for  the  Parliaments,  and  the 
provost  of  the  merchants  for  the  city  of  Paris, 
declared  their  readiness  to  provide  the  ransom  of 
the  young  princes. 

Amidst  great  enthusiasm  Francis  was  declared 
absolved  from  his  oath,  the  Treaty  of  Madrid  null 
and  void,  and  his  loyal  subjects  prepared,  as  they 
assured  him,  to  die  rather  than  allow  his  return  to 
imprisonment. 

Francis  was  but  little  accustomed  to  have  his 
wants  so  promptly  supplied  and  with  such  earnest 
expressions  of  satisfaction. 

"  Magnanimous  Frenchmen  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
much  elated,  "  I  will  live  then  in  your  midst,  as  you 
tell  me  my  presence  is  necessary  among  you."  To 
which  he  added  the  gracious  assurance  that  "  he 
would  always  take  their  advice  in  good  part," 
though  he  did  not  promise  that  he  would  follow  it. 

By  way  of  rejoinder  to  these  proceedings,  the 
emperor  put  the  plenipotentiaries  of  both  Henry 
and  Francis  under  arrest.  The  two  kings  re- 
sponded    by     challenging    him  —  "  Clarencieux," 


THE    CHALLENGE   AND    THE  REPLY      347 

king  -  at  -  arms,  and  "Guyenne,"  the  French  king's 
herald,  conveying  the  challenges  to  Burgos,  where 
Charles,  in  full  audience,  received  those  important 
personages. 

To  the  English  king  -  at  -  arms  he  spoke  very 
calmly,  and  with  an  affected  indifference  that 
seemed  to  say  his  challenge  was  scarcely  worth 
notice.  But  towards  the  French  herald  he  as- 
sumed a  very  different  tone.  The  prudent,  phleg- 
matic Charles  lost  all  command  of  his  temper. 
His  indignation  was  boundless,  and  bitter  invec- 
tives and  uncomplimentary  epithets  were  unspar- 
ingly heaped  on  Francis  —  his  prisoner,  as  he 
termed  him  —  whose  presumption  in  addressing 
such  a  declaration  to  him  utterly  amazed  him. 

The  herald,  being  unwilling  to  repeat  the 
emperor's  message  to  the  king,  feigned  to  have 
forgotten  the  chief  part  of  it.  The  emperor  re- 
newed it  for  the  king's  edification.  "He  had 
acted,"  he  said,  "in  a  cowardly  manner,  wickedly, 
maliciously,  and,  if  he  averred  to  the  contrary, 
he  would  maintain  it  personally  against  him." 
"  Guyenne "  returned  to  Charles  with  a  written 
challenge,  in  which  he  was  told  he  "  lied  in  the 
throat,"  and  a  place  of  meeting  was  demanded.  It 
appears  that  a  delay  of  some  months  occurred 
before  this  challenge  reached  Charles,  when,  in- 
stead of  naming  the  place  for  their  rendezvous 
and  returning  it  by  "  Guyenne,"  he  sent  it  by  his 
own  herald,  "  Burgundy." 


348  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

The  place  he  appointed  was  the  river  Bidassoa, 
the  particular  spot  —  some  island,  probably  —  to  be 
selected  by  gentlemen  chosen  by  the  combatants 
respectively.  Charles  demanded  Francis's  reply 
within  forty  clays ;  failing  which,  the  delay  of  the 
combat  must  rest  with  him. 

Europe  looked  on  amused  while  the  heralds  of 
the  emperor  and  the  King  of  France  (Henry  VIII. 
seems  to  have  withdrawn  from  the  contest)  were 
travelling  to  and  fro  with  challenges,  defiant 
messages,  and  furious  demands  that  the  lists  be 
appointed.  The  result  of  this  combat,  when  first 
announced,  was  anxiously  awaited.  But  months 
passed  on,  and  no  combat  took  place.  Charles 
cooled  down,  and  idle  taunts  and  recriminations 
abated  the  keenness  of  resentment.  Yet,  strangely 
enough,  it  was  the  "  chevalier  king  "  who  occasioned 
the  delays  and  raised  up  the  obstacles  that  pre- 
vented so  famous  a  rencounter.  The  prudent 
and  politic  Charles  was  far  more  in  earnest 
than    he. 

But  in  spite  of  the  horrors  of  wars  that  were 
ended,  and  the  preparations  for  those  to  come, 
France,  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
land,  was  looking  joyously  forward  to  much 
festivity.  Madame  Renee,  the  younger  daughter 
of  Louis  XII.,  after  her  many  betrothals,  was 
about  to  marry  the  young  Duke  of  Ferrara, 
Herculano  d'  Este,  son  of  the  Duke  Alfonso  and 
Lucretia  Borgia.    Renee,  who  had  just  entered  her 


MARRIAGE    OF  MADAME   RE  NEE  349 

eighteenth  year,  was  a  lively,  piquante  brunette, 
greatly  resembling  her  mother,  Anne  of  Brittany, 
as  well  in  character  (having  a  decided  will  of  her 
own)  as  personally,  which  in  after  years  was 
proved  by  her  fearless  protection  of  the  reformers, 
and  the  very  great  interest  she  took  in  art  and 
letters. 

Her  marriage  is  described  by  that  dilligent 
chroniqueur — "Le  Bourgeois  de  Paris"  —  as  a 
very  stately  ceremony,  and  an  event  of  deep 
interest  to  all.  It  was  attended  by  the  barons  of 
Brittany,  their  wives  and  daughters,  and  the  prin- 
cipal ladies  and  gentlemen  of  that  duchy,  also  by 
the  princes,  princesses,  and  grand  seigneurs  of 
France.  The  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  Sens,  Du- 
prat,  chancellor  of  finance,  married  the  happy 
pair  "at  the  door  of  the  Ste.  Chapelle,  and  low 
mass  was  afterwards  chanted  by  the  treasurer 
(bishop)  of  the  chapel." 

Madame  Renee,  following  the  example  of  her 
sister,  the  late  Queen  Claude,  endeavoured  to 
retain  in  vogue  the  graceful  fashions  introduced 
by  Anne  of  Brittany.  The  costumes  of  the  ladies 
generally,  varying,  of  course,  in  colour  and  ma- 
terial, were  similar,  on  this  occasion,  to  that  of 
the  bride,  who  wore  an  under-dress  of  rich  white 
Lyons  satin,  over  it  a  long  training  skirt,  open  in 
front,  of  Venetian  silver  brocade,  with  bodice  and 
hanging  sleeves  bordered  with  jewels,  and  con- 
fined   at    the    waist    by    a    silver    cordclicrc    with 


350  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

tassels  of  silver  intermingled  with  jewels.  Her 
hat  was  of  white  velvet  with  narrow  brim,  edged 
with  pearls  and  diamonds,  a  small  white  plume 
and  long  veil  of  Italian  tissue  falling  low  at  the 
back.  A  band  of  jewels  round  her  throat,  and 
Italian  gloves  fringed  and  jewelled,  completed  the 
young  duchess's  toilette.  Doubtless  the  dress  of 
the  bridegroom  was  no  less  elegant  than  the 
bride's.  For  we  know  that  the  gentlemen  of  that 
day  vied  with  the  ladies  in  the  richness  of  their  at- 
tire, their  velvets,  satins,  laces,  plumes,  and  jewels. 

The  bride's  return  to  the  palace  was  made  the 
occasion  of  a  popular  ovation,  illuminations,  fire- 
works, etc.  The  "Bourgeois"  speaks  of  it  as  "un 
grand  triompke."  A  sumptuous  banquet  in  the 
great  hall  of  St.  Louis  was  followed  by  a  state 
ball,  while  still  further  to  honour  and  to  sanctify 
the  happy  event,  "  two  Turks,  brought  from 
Rhodes  by  the  grand  master,  were  baptised  on 
the  marriage  day."  The  ceremony  of  regenerat- 
ing these  infidel  dogs  proved  a  no  less  edifying 
than  effective  and  impressive  solemnity,  the  chev- 
aliers of  the  Order  of  Rhodes  attending  in  full 
array  as  sponsors. 

For  several  weeks,  the  court  was  a  continued 
scene  of  gaiety  and  festivity,  jousts  and  tourna- 
ments, hunting-parties,  masques,  banquets,  and 
balls  succeeded  each  other  without  intermission, 
banishing  all  unwelcome  thoughts  that  might 
otherwise  have  troubled  the  king.     Burgundy,  the 


AN  ACCOMPLISHED   PUPIL  35  I 

emperor  and  his  challenges,  the  Pope  at  Orvieto, 
the  prayer  of  Lautrec  for  money  to  pay  his  troops, 
the  poor  little  princes  in  Spain  pining  for  home, 
all  were  forgotten  by  Francis,  immersed  in  a  daily 
round  of  pleasures. 

Gayest  among  the  revellers  was  the  young 
Duchesse  d'  Etampes,  giving  little  heed  to  her 
royal  lover,  and  none  at  all  to  those  passing 
caprices,  those  sudden  fits  of  admiration,  with 
which  other  belles  inspired  him,  and  which,  at 
times,  seemed  to  threaten  the  continuance  of  her 
reign.  But  she  exercised  so  singularly  fascinating 
an  influence  over  him,  that  she  could  recall  him  a 
captive  at  her  feet  at  her  will.  His  infidelities 
gave  her  no  pain,  for  she  had  no  affection  what- 
ever for  him. 

She  was  ambitious  of  political  power,  yet  pre- 
ferred to  exert  it  indirectly  by  artfully  suggesting 
her  views  to  the  king,  as  if  in  mere  playfulness, 
and  by  skilfully  flattering  his  self-love,  in  which 
she  was  an  adept,  leading  him  to  believe  those 
views  were  his  own,  and  all  her  political  wisdom 
derived  from  him.  Madame  Louise  had  reason 
to  be  proud  of  her  pupil.  It  would  almost  seem 
that  she  was  especially  trained  to  succeed  her. 

Courtly  festivities  and  general  rejoicings  at  last 
came  to  an  end,  and  the  young  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Ferrara  left  France  for  Italy. 

The  fortune  of  war,  meanwhile,  had  turned  in 


352  THE    COURT  OE  FRANCE 

favour  of  Marechal  Lautrec,  whose  former  exploits 
had  been  but  a  series  of  disasters.  After  the 
escape  of  the  Pope  from  St.  Angelo,  Lautrec 
marched  with  his  army  on  Naples,  took  several 
towns,  and  nearly  completed  the  conquest  of  the 
kingdom,  the  city  alone  holding  out.  To  prevent 
supplies  reaching  the  garrison,  the  port  was  block- 
aded by  Genoese  vessels  commanded  by  Philip- 
pino  Doria,  nephew  of  the  famous  Andrea  Doria. 
The  Spanish  galleys  attacked  them,  were  beaten 
off,  and  the  viceroy  and  the  Prince  of  Orange 
taken  prisoners.  Andrea  was  expected  with 
nineteen  vessels  to  complete  the  blockade,  which 
would  have  assured  the  conquest  of  Naples  to 
France. 

But  that  strange  fatality  that  always  attended 
the  interference  of  the  king  lost  him  both  Genoa 
and  Naples.  The  former  had  just  been  restored 
to  France  by  Doria,  the  Genoese  requesting  to  be 
governed  by  their  own  laws  and  ancient  usages. 
This  the  king  refused,  proposing  also  to  transfer 
from  Genoa  to  Savona  the  right  to  receive  the 
duty  on  salt.  At  the  same  time,  he  sent  an  in- 
sulting message  to  Doria,  and  his  dismissal  as 
"admiral  in  the  Levant."  Doria  had  considered 
the  viceroy  and  general,  taken  by  his  nephew  in 
his  own  vessels,  as  his  prisoners,  not  the  king's. 
Francis  was  indignant,  sent  the  Comte  de  Bar- 
bezieux  to  supersede  him,  and  to  arrest  him  if  he 
could. 


LOSS   OF  A    FA/T/IFUL   ALLY  353 

Doria  had  formed  a  squadron  of  twelve  vessels 
wholly  equipped  by  himself.  With  them  were  a 
few  galleys  —  "Francis's  fleet  in  the  Levant." 
These  latter  Doria  delivered  to  his  successor,  who 
neither  could  nor  dared  attempt  to  arrest  him. 
The  vessels  blockading  Naples  were  withdrawn, 
the  garrison  immediately  revictualled,  and  the  long- 
coveted  conquest  of  that  kingdom  was  lost  to 
France.  The  Genoese,  finding  that  one  source  of 
commercial  profit  was  to  be  withdrawn  from  them, 
and  the  removal  of  other  branches  of  trade  also 
threatened,  declared  themselves  free,  called  on 
their  countryman,  Doria,  to  defend  them,  and 
offered  him  the  title  of  Doge. 

Their  request  he  complied  with  ;  the  title  they 
would  confer  on  him  he  declined.  The  only  re- 
sult, therefore,  of  the  king's  ill-timed  petulance 
was  the  loss  of  Naples  and  Genoa,  and  the  ser- 
vices of  a  faithful  ally,  much  attached  to  France, 
yet  a  zealous  patriot.  Further  reverses  occurred 
in  the  north  of  Italy.  The  plague  spread  to  the 
French  camp.  Marechal  Lautrec  died  of  it,  and 
three-fourths  of  his  army.  General  de  Saint -Pol 
was  surprised  by  the  Spaniards  at  Londriano,  taken 
prisoner,  and  nearly  the  whole  of  his  small  army 
mercilessly  massacred.  These  events,  together  with 
the  defection  of  the  Pope,  the  head  of  the  league, 
at  last  convinced  Francis  that  he  could  not  rees- 
tablish himself  in  Italy.  He  began,  therefore,  to 
be    disgusted  with  war.       The   laurel   crown  had 


354  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

no  longer  charms  for  him.  Freedom  from  war's 
anxieties,  leisure  for  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  and 
the  encouragement  of  letters  and  les  beaux  arts 
were  now,  to  his  fancy,  all  that  made  life  desirable. 

Peace  !  then  —  peace  with  honour  if  possible  — 
but  peace  at  all  events  and  at  any  price ! 

The  embarrassments  of  Charles  V.  made  peace 
with  France  and  Italy  almost  a  necessity  also  with 
him.  He  had  both  heretics  and  infidels  to  com- 
bat, and,  with  the  blessing  of  heaven  and  the  holy 
saints,  as  he  hoped,  to  conquer  ;  though  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other  seemed  to  fear  his  menaces. 

Those  sovereign  princes  of  Germany  and  impe- 
rial cities  that  had  embraced  the  reformed  religion 
were  preparing  to  take  up  arms  in  defence  of  their 
faith  against  both  the  emperor  and  the  German 
Catholic  states.  At  a  second  Diet  held  at  Spire 
in  April,  1529,  they  had  protested  against  a  decree 
of  the  emperor,  then  announced,  enacting  that 
severest  pains  and  penalties,  and  in  some  cases 
death,  should  be  inflicted  on  those  obstinate  here- 
tics who  continued  to  profess  Lutheranism  or  other 
heretical  doctrine.  After  this  solemn  protest  the 
princes  and  deputies  of  the  cities  withdrew  from 
the  Diet.* 

The  infidels  were,  perhaps,  more  formidable 
opponents  than  the  heretics,  who  required  only  to 
be   allowed  to  worship   God  in  peace   after   their 

*  From  this  time  the  Lutherans  and  other  reformers  were 
called  Protestants. 


TWO    WILY  FEMALE   DIPLOMATISTS       355 

own  manner.  Solyman  the  Magnificent  had  over- 
run Hungary,  driven  out  the  Austrians,  and  re- 
ceived the  homage,  as  his  vassal,  of  its  elected 
king,  John  Zapoly.  At  the  head  of  his  over- 
whelming and  conquering  hosts,  with  whom  were 
joined  his  Christian  tributaries,  and  in  whose  camp 
was  a  secret  agent  of  the  King  of  France,  Solyman 
was  preparing  to  march  on  Vienna. 

In  this  dilemma  a  truce  was  signed  at  Hampton 
Court  by  Henry  VIII.  with  Margaret  of  Austria, 
Governess  of  the  Netherlands,  on  the  part  of 
Charles  V.  and  Bishop  Jean  du  Bellay  for  Francis  I. 
This  truce  led  to  a  general  peace.  As  no  ami- 
cable arrangement  of  their  differences  seemed 
possible  between  the  emperor  and  the  king,  and 
as  their  plenipotentiaries  were  also  unable  to  come 
to  one  for  them,  the  discussion  and  settlement  of 
the  conditions  of  peace  were  confided  to  two  wily 
female  diplomatists  —  Margaret  of  Austria  and 
Louise  of   Savoy. 

These  ladies  met  at  Cambray,  armed  with  full 
powers  from  their  respective  sovereigns.  Two 
adjoining  houses  were  prepared  for  their  recep- 
tion, and  a  communication  opened  between  them, 
in  order  that  no  prying  eyes  might  watch  their 
going  in  or  coming  out  or  take  note  of  the  length 
of  their  conferences.  No  person  whatever  was 
admitted  to  them,  lest  suggestion  or  comment 
should  embarrass  them,  or  impose  restraint  on 
the  fulness  of  their  interchange  of    thought  and 


356  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

opinion.  The  Treaty  of  Madrid  was  taken  as  the 
basis  of  the  new  agreement,  and  a  sort  of- modifi- 
cation of  it  was  signed  by  M esdames  Margaret  and 
Louise  on  the  5th  of  August.  Un<bs  - 

The  Treaty  of  Cambray,  called  la  Paix  dcs 
Dames  —  the  Ladies'  Peace  —  was  considered  even 
more  disgraceful  than  that  of  Madrid,  and  the 
reproach  and  dishonour  of  the  reign  of  Francis  I. 
His  intention,  however,  was  to  execute  as  much 
only  of  the  treaty  as  was  convenient  to  him  ;  and 
while  sacrificing  all  his  allies  after  compromising 
-them,  he  made  secret  promises  to  defend  them.* 
Especially  to  the  Florentines,  who  were  contend- 
ing for  their  freedom  against  emperor  and  Pope, 
he  promised  to  send  aid  as  soon  as  he  had  ran- 
somed his  sons.  To  excuse  the  baseness  of  his 
submission  to  the  emperor  in  the  eyes  of  the 
people,  he  complained  vehemently  before  the 
Parliament  of  the  pressure  put  upon  him  by 
Charles  to  extort  over  and  above  the  ransom  of 
the  children  in  ready  money  a  part  of  their  patri- 
mony. But  his  promise  to  reinstate  Bourbon's 
heirs  and  the  Prince  of  Orange  in  their  posses- 
sions remained  almost  wholly  unfulfilled. 

Not  until  the  1st  of  July,  1 530,  did  the  exchange 
of  the  hostages  for  their  ransom  take  place,  though 
fixed  for  the  10th  of  March.  It  had  occurred  to 
the  chancellor  Duprat  that  by  coining  new  money 
with  a  hundredth  part  of  alloy  more  than  that  in 
general  use,  a  gain  of  40,000  crowns  on  the  two 


MUTUAL   PRECAUTIONS  357 

millions  might  be  effected  —  of  course,  under  the 
delusion  that  the  fraud  would  pass  undiscovered. 
The  Spaniards,  however,  were  rigidly  severe  re- 
specting the  purity  of  their  own  coin,  and,  besides, 
had  probably  some  suspicion  of  the  intended  dete- 
rioration of  this  new  French  money. 

At  all  events,  the  masters  of  the  Spanish  mint 
were  sent  to  Bayonne  to  test,  conjointly  with  the 
chiefs  of  the  French  mint,  the  coin  offered  in  pay- 
ment of  the  ransom.  A  deficiency  in  value  was 
proved  to  the  extent  above  named,  which  Duprat 
was  compelled  to  make  good.  This  dishonourable 
transaction  created  in  the  Spaniards  a  feeling  of 
great  distrust  of  the  French,  and  after  the  money 
had  been  counted  and  tested,  and  locked  up  in 
forty  -  eight  cases  bearing  the  double  seal  of  the 
masters  of  the  French  and  Spanish  mints,  the 
grandmaster  and  marshal  of  France,  Anne  de 
Montmorency,  was  required  to  supervise  its  con- 
veyance to  the  French  shore  of  the  Bidassoa. 

In  the  middle  of  that  stream  a  small  vessel  was 
anchored,  where,  as  when  Francis  was  released, 
the  exchange  was  to  be  made.  On  the  Spanish 
side  the  constable  of  Castile  with  the  two  young 
princes  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  ransom  —  the 
Portuguese  queen  with  her  retinue  being  with 
them,  and  temporarily  lodged  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. A  very  strict  lookout  seems  to  have  been 
kept  up  on  the  Spanish  shore  as  the  treasure  and 
its  convoy  approached.     The  movements  of  a  small 


35§  THE    COURT  OF  FRANCE 

detachment  of  troops  that  followed  the  grand  mar- 
shal appeared  to  the  Spanish  officer  so  suspicious, 
that  he  fancied  some  conspiracy  was  on  foot  to 
seize  the  princes  when  they  came  to  the  river's 
edge,  and  to  withhold  the  ransom. 

A  panic  seized  him.  He  ordered  the  princes 
and  the  people  that  were  with  him  to  mount,  and, 
though  night  was  drawing  on,  galloped  off  with 
the  precious  charge  confided  to  him  into  the  inte- 
rior—  the  queen  following  in  her  litter.  A  delay 
of  nearly  four  months  was  thus  occasioned.  At 
last,  when  precautions  sufficiently  humiliating  on 
both  sides  had  been  taken  against  a  surprise,  the 
exchange  was  effected  in  mid-stream  on  the  I  st  of 
July. 

Queen  Eleanor  afterwards  crossed  the  river  in 
a  boat,  —  several  boats  following  with  her  retinue. 
The  king  was  there  to  receive  her,  to  whom  she 
curtseyed  most  profoundly,  he  bowing  almost  to 
the  ground  in  the  same  ceremonious  manner. 
She  was  dressed  in  the  Spanish  costume,  and 
wore  many  jewels.  "  Her  earrings  were  diamonds 
as  large  as  walnuts."  The  king  married  her  with- 
out any  delay,  and  almost  privately,  at  the  small 
chapel  of  the  Convent  of  de  Verrieres.  He  then 
conducted  her  to  Bordeaux,  where,  on  her  entry, 
the  exceeding  magnificence  of  her  dress,  the  splen- 
dour of  her  jewels,  and  her  hat  with  a  plume  and 
feathered  edge  like  the  king's,  created  considerable 
sensation. 


ITALY  PROSTRATE  359 

The  disgraceful  treaty  of  Cambray,  a  triumph 
for  Charles  V.,  covered  Francis  I.  with  oppro- 
brium. With  it  terminated  the  political  career  of 
Louise  of  Savoy.  It  would  almost  seem  that  she 
herself,  on  reflecting  on  her  work,  had  been  stung 
by  remorse  for  the  disgrace  she  had  contributed 
to  inflict  on  France  and  her  son.  No  prominent 
part  appears  to  have  again  been  taken  by  her  in 
public  affairs,  and  in  little  more  than  a  year  after 
the  fatal  treaty  was  signed  she  died  at  Grez,  a 
village  in  Orleans.  Immense  sums,  abstracted 
from  the  revenues  of  the  state,  were  found  in  her 
coffers  after  her  death. 

Italy  now  lay  prostrate,  existing  by  sufferance, 
at  the  feet  of  Charles  V.  Yet  heretics  and  infi- 
dels then  gave  him  so  much  occupation  in  Ger- 
many that  he  was  compelled  to  abate  a  little  of 
his  rigour  towards  the  rebellious  Italian  states  ; 
lest  by  setting  his  foot  too  heavily  on  the  necks 
of  their  princes,  he  should  move  them  to  turn 
again  and  unite  in  a  struggle  for  liberty  more 
effectual  than  before. 

Republican  Florence  alone  felt  the  full  weight 
of  his,  as  well  as  the  Pope's  resentment.  She 
had  driven  out  the  degenerate  Medici,  and  only  on 
condition  that  she  consented  again  to  submit  to 
their  despotic  yoke,  to  receive  them  as  her  hered- 
itary rulers,  would  the  emperor  listen  to  any 
proposals  for  peace.  As  many  as  the  plague  had 
spared  of  those  brigand  bands  he  had  absolved   of 


360  THE   COURT  OF  FRANCE 

their  crimes,  Clement  sent  forth  to  besiege  and 
ravage  the  city  of  his  birth,  and  wantonly  to  afflict 
its  inhabitants. 

After  treason,  rather  than  force,  had  subdued 
them,  and  the  terms  of  their  capitulation  were 
violated,  many  Florentine  citizens  fled  their 
country.  Many  more  were  sent  to  the  scaffold. 
Michael  Angelo,  who  had  assisted  in  the  defence 
of  the  city,  was,  indeed,  pardoned.  A  man  of  his 
genius  and  ability  was  not  easily  replaced,  and 
Clement  had  need  of  him.  Thus  fell  the  republic 
of  Florence,  to  wear  again,  after  her  heroic  strug- 
gle for  freedom,  the  chains  and  fetters  forged  by 
the  Medici ! 


END    OF    VOL.    I. 


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JAN  1  7  2006 


FEB 


2006 


